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THE   WONDERS    OF   THE    COLORADO 
DESERT 

VOLUME  ONE 


By  the  Same  Author 

In  and  Around  the  Grand  Canyon  of  the  Colo- 
rado River  in  Arizona.    Illustrated.    8vo.    $2.50. 

Indians  of  the  Painted  Desert  Region.  Illustrated. 
Crown  8vo.      $2.00  net. 

In  and   Out  of  the   Old   Missions  of  California. 

Illustrated.      8vo.      $3. 00  net. 

The  Story  of  Scraggles.  Illustrated.  i6mo. 
$1.00. 

Indian  Basketry.  Third  edition.  420  pages. 
Nearly  600  illustrations.      $2.50  net. 

In  and  Out  of  the  Old  Missions  of  New  Mexico, 
Arizona,  Texas,  and  Lower  California.  (In 
preparation.) 

The  Influence  of  the  Mission  Style  in  Modern 
Architecture.      ( In  preparation.) 


■ 


The  Wonders        j 

of 

The  Colorado  Desert 

(Southern  California) 


Its  Rivers  and  its  Mountains,  its  Canyons  and  its  Springs, 
its  Life  and  its  History,  Pictured  and  Described 


Including  an  Account  of  a  Recent  Journey  made  down  the  Overflow 
of  the  Colorado  River  to  the  Mysterious  Salton  Sea 


By  GEORGE   WHARTON  JAMES 

Author  of"  In  and  Around  the  Grand  Canyon,"  "  The  Old  Missions  of  California, "  etc. 


With  upivards  of  Three  Hundred  Pen-and-ink  Sketches 
from  Nature,  by 

CARL    EYTEL 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES 
Vol.  I. 


Boston 


Little,  Brown,  and  Company   ^^4>-^.^^  utOK 

1906 


Copyright,  1906, 
Edith  E.  Farnsworth. 


All  rights  reserved 

Published   December,  1906 


Typography  by  Griffith-Stillings  Press,  Boston,  U.S.A. 


u/  ■ 


/ 


■    ; 


fc 


/ 

IN   THE    DESERT 

Silent  Voices  have  spoken, 
Peace  has  come, 
Joy  has  flowed, 
Courage  has  grown, 
Health  been  regained. 

To  the  SOURCE,  the  Maker  of  Deserts,  with  a 
thankful  heart,  I  dedicate  this  book. 


TO  THE  COLORADO  DESERT 

Thou  brown,  bare-breasted,  voiceless  mystery, 

Hot  Sphinx  of  nature,  cactus-crowned,  what  hast  thou  done  ? 

Unclothed  and  mute  as  when  the  groans  of  chaos  turned 

Thy  naked,  burning  bosom  to  the  sun. 

The  mountain  silences  have  speech,  the  rivers  sing; 

Thou  answerest  never  unto  anything. 

Pink-throated  lizards  pant  in  thy  slim  shade; 

The  horned  toad  runs  rustling  in  the  heat; 

The  shadowy,  gray  coyote,  born  afraid, 

Steals  to  some  brackish  spring  and  laps,  and  prowls 

Away,  and  howls,  and  howls,  and  howls,  and  howls, 

Until  the  solitude  is  shaken  with  an  added  loneliness. 

Thy  sharp  mescal  shoots  up  a  giant  stalk, 

Its  century  of  yearning,  to  the  sunburnt  skies, 

And  drips  rare  honey  from  the  lips 

Of  yellow  waxen  flowers,  and  dies. 

Some  lengthwise  sun-dried  shapes  with  feet  and  hands, 

And  thirsty  mouths  pressed  on  the  sweltering  sands, 

Mark  here  and  there  a  gruesome,  graveless  spot, 

Where  some  one  drank  thy  scorching  hotness,  and  is  not. 

God  must  have  made  thee  in  his  anger,  and  forgot. 

—  Madge  Morris  Wagner. 


CONTENTS 

Volume   One 

Chapter  PaKe 

I.  A  General  View  of  the  Desert I 

II.  The  Physical  History  of  the  Desert 23 

III.  Desert  Surprises 33 

IV.  The  Rivers  of  the  Desert 49 

V.  The  Mountains  of  the  Desert 69 

VI.  The  Volcanoes  of  the  Desert 81 

VII.  Explorers  and  Pathfinders 87 

VIII.  The  Colorado  River  Ferry 117 

IX.  Storms,  Mirages,  Desert  Illusions,  and  Temperatures  123 

X.  The  Colors  of  the  Desert 139 

XL  Some  Wild  Animals  of  the  Desert 145 

XII.  Some  Desert  Birds 157 

XIII.  Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert 169 

XIV.  Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 207 

XV.  The  Indians  of  the  Desert 233 

XVI.  The  Stage  Line  Across  the  Desert 253 

XVII.  Water  on  the  Desert 263 


FULL-PAGE    ILLUSTRATIONS 

Volume  One 
Mirage  in  the  Desert Frontispiece 

Reproduction  in  color  of  a  painting  by  Carl  Eytel. 

Mr.  Carl  Eytel,  the  Desert  Artist,  Mr.  Lea  Van  Anderson, 

and  the  Author's  Faithful  Pack-burros PQge    xxxix 

Mr.  Eytel  at  work  on  the  Desert "          xliii 

In  the  Sand-dunes  on  the  Colorado  Desert      "            15 

Colorado  Desert  from  Andreas  Canyon 25 

Palms  climbing  the  Ridges  on  the  Colorado  Desert    ...  72 

Palms  in  the  Open,  Colorado  Desert 96 

Tauquitch  Canyon  and  San  Jacinto  Mountains  near  Palm 

Springs,  Colorado  Desert 120 

Palms  in  the  Canyon  near  Indio,  Colorado  Desert     .    .    .  140 

Mesquite  Trees  on  the  Colorado  Desert 208 

The  Ocatilla  in  Leaf 215 

Specimens  of  Cactuses 222 

Mamillaria   Grahami,  Mamillarta   Wrightu,  Mamillaria 
Pusilla  var.  Texana. 

Specimens  of  Cactuses "          224 

Echinocactus  H onzonthalonicus ,  Mamillaria  Macromens. 

Specimens  of  Cactuses 231 

Cereus    Chloranthus,    Mamillaria     Tuberculosa,    Cereus 
Ccespitosus. 

Coahuilla  Indian  and  Granary 244 

In  Thousand  Palm  Canyon,  Colorado  Desert 264 


ILLUSTRATIONS    IN    THE    TEXT 

Volume  One 


Entrance  to  Murray  Canyon Page        xx 

Indian  Woman  carrying  Palm  Leaves "         xxiii 

A  "Well-dressed"  Palm  in  Andreas  Canyon "         xxiv 

Church  at  Palm  Springs "         xxvi 

Aqueduct  rounding  one  of  the  Spurs  of  the  San  Jacinto 

Range "      xxviii 

Volcanic  Upthrust  of  San  Jacinto  Mountains "         xxxi 

Outlook  from  the  Author's  Home  in  Chino  Canyon  ...  "      xxxiii 

The  Author's  Desert  Home "      xxxiv 

Hot  Spring  where  the  Author  bathes  in  Chino  Canyon       .  "        xxxv 

Saturnino,  a  Palm  Springs  Indian      '    xxxviii 

Mountain-Sheep  in  their  Haunts "            xli 

Banning.     Mounts   San    Jacinto   on    the    Left    and    San 

Gorgonio  on  the  Right "               2 

Entrance  to  Tauquitch,  or  West  Canyon      "              3 

Near  the  Mouth  of  Chino  Canyon "              5 

The  Left  Wall  at  Entrance  to  Tauquitch  Canyon  ....  6 

The  Ancient  Beach  Line  near  Torres 8 

The  Fierce  Winds  tear  the  Sand  away  from  the  Roots   .    .  "             II 

In  the  Canyon  of  Five  Hundred  Palms "            12 

Sand-hills  at  Rimlon "             14 

Prickly  Pear "            16 

Freaks  of  Erosion  in  the  Yuha  Country "             ij 

Picacho  Peak  and  Ocatilla 19 

A  Yuma  Indian  building  his  House 21 

Arrow-heads 22 

The  San  Gorgonio  Pass 25 

Salton  Sea  by  Moonlight      31 

Palms  in  the  Foot-hills  near  Indio 34 

A  Lone  Palm  in  Andreas  Canyon "            36 

xiii 


Illustrations 


Yuma  Woman 

The  Smoke  Tree  (Dalea  spinosa) 

An  Artesian  Well  on  the  Desert 

Chuckwalla  with  Banded  Tail 

Tarantulas 

Desert  Tortoise,  side  view 

Horned  Toad  {Phrynosoma  platyrhino) 

An  Indian  "Kish"  with  Granary  on  Roof 

Idyllwild,  in  San  Jacinto  Mountains 

The  Author's  Boat 

Yuma  Indian  using  Metate 

Colorado  River  below  Needles  Bridge 

The  San  Bernardino  Mountains 

A  Glimpse  of  San  Jacinto  Peak 

In  the  West  Fork  of  Palm  Canyon 

The  San  Bernardino  Mountains 

A  Side  Gorge  on  San  Jacinto  Mountains 

Bats'  Caves  near  Durmid 

Mount  San  Jacinto  from  Whitewater 

Ravine  near  Mud  Volcanoes 

Approaching  the  Mud  Volcanoes 

The  Seething  Caldron  of  Boiling  Mud  and  Quicksand 
Built-up  Cone  of  one  of  the  Aiud  Volcanoes    .... 

Juan  Segondo  at  Torres 

Pounding  Mesquite  Beans 

Padre  Garces  at  his  Camp-fire    .    .    . , 

Rafael  Amador's  Ride 

The  Weary  March  of  Kearney's  Soldiers , 

The  San  Felipe  Pass 

A  Desert-worn  Animal 

He  was  found  dying,  and  near  by  his  Mule,  dead   .    . 

The  Way  the  Pioneers  crossed  the  Desert , 

View  of  the  Desert  from  the  "Hidden  Lake"  Trail   . 
Canyon  on  the  Colorado  River  above  Yuma    .... 

The  Colorado  River  near  Picacho 

Railway  Bridge  and  Steamer  at  Yuma 

A  Settler's  Home  on  the  Desert      


Page 


Illustrations 


Moving  Sand-hills  near  Indian  Well      Pa 

A  Wind-storm  in  the  Desert 

Part  of  the  Great  Sand-hills 

A  Desert  Graveyard 

Mirage.      Inverted  Mountains  in  the  Sky 

A  Desert  Mirage 

Pack-burros  on  the  Desert 

Group  of  Palms  on  the  Desert 

A  Large  Palm  Group  in  Palm  Canyon 

A  Coahuilla  Basket  of  Beautiful  Natural  Colors     .... 

On  the  Trail  to  San  Gorgonio  Mountain 

Mountain  Lion 

"Just  about  to  leap  upon  my  Unconscious  Friend"   .    .    . 

Mountain  Lion 

Mountain  Lion  watching  his  Prey 

Mountain  Lion  asleep       

Desert  Wildcat 

American  Deer 

Don  Coyote 

A  Dim,  Shadowy  Figure 

A  Mere  Outline 

Humming-bird  and  Nest 

Eagle 

Eagle  eating  Bird 

The  Elf-owl 

Road-runner       

Road-runner       

Road-runner  sunning  himself 

Blue  Heron 

Flying  Herons 

Brown  Eagle 

Condor 

A  Quiet  and  Cool  Retreat  in  Andreas  Canyon 

A  Desert  Rattlesnake 

Tiger  Rattlesnake 

A  Traveling  Rattlesnake 

Sidewinder 


xvi  Illustrations 

Open  Mouth  of  Sidewinder Page     1 75 

Diagram  showing  Rattlesnake's  Fangs  and  Poison  Glands  177 

Gila  Monster 180 

Chuckwalla "          182 

Chuckwalla "           184 

My  Chuckwalla  showing  Fight "          186 

Burnett's  Alligator  Lizard "          188 

Small  Desert  Sand  Lizard "          189 

The  Banded  Gekho  Lizard "          190 

Horned  Toad "          191 

Horned  Toad 192 

Desert  Tortoise,  top  view 195 

Desert  Tortoise,  bottom  view "          196 

Scorpions "          198 

Centipede "          199 

Tarantulas "          200 

Tarantula "          201 

Tarantula  Hawk "          202 

The  Dinapate  wrightii,  the  large  Beetle  found  in  the  Desert 

Palms "          203 

The  Dinapate  wrightii,  top  view "          205 

Gila  Monster 206 

Wild  Heliotrope "          208 

"Hen  and  Chickens" 209 

Gum  Plant "          211 

Desert  Thistle  Poppy "          212 

A  Group  of  Old  Mesquites "          213 

The  Mesquite "          214 

Ocatilla,  or  the  Devil's  Claw "          215 

The  Screw-bean  Mesquite 216 

False  Tidytips 217 

Sprigs  of  the  Creosote  Bush 218 

Sunshine 219 

Queen  of  the  Night  Cactus      220 

Pentachceta  aura 222 

Tidytips "          223 

Blue-and-white  Lupin 225 


Illustrations  xvii 

The  Creosote  Bush Page  226 

Blue  Larkspur "  227 

Tarweed "  229 

Ehia "  230 

Evolution  of  Indian  Dwellings "  232 

"Salesladies"      "  234 

Indian  Dogs "  234 

Cocopah  Indians,  near  Calexico "  235 

Potrero  Indian  Reservation  at  Banning "  236 

Granaries  at  Torres "  236 

Old  Indian  Well "  237 

Indian  Boy  on  Horseback 238 

A  Coahuilla  Basket "  239 

Indian  Pony "  240 

Indian  Horse "  241 

Indian  Burro 242 

Indian  Granary      "  242 

Brush  Shelter 243 

Evolution  of  Indian  Dwellings "  243 

A  Coahuilla  Squaw "  245 

Indian  Dogs "  246 

Indian  Chicken  House "  247 

Indian  Horses 248 

Corral  at  Martinez "  250 

Watering  Place  at  Torres "  251 

Indian  Baskets "  252 

An  Early-day  Stage-coach "  254 

An  abandoned  Light  Stage  for  Swift  Work       "  257 

Later-day  Stage-coach 259 

Modern  Visitors  on  the  Desert "  260 

Old  Stage-station  at  Vallecito "  262 

An  Ancient  Indian  Well 264 

Our  Canteens "  266 

The  Modern  Artesian  Well      "  268 

Mexican  hauling  Water  at  Mexicali "  270 


xviii  Illustrations 

MAPS 

Plan  of  the  Rio  Colorado P°ge    xxvii 

The  Colorado  Desert Facing  page  I 

Mouth  of  the  Colorado  River P°ge        53 


INTRODUCTORY 

HAT  is  a  desert  ?  Does  any  one  know  ?  The 
dictionary  says  it  is  "a  deserted  place  or  re- 
gion; a  waste;  a  wilderness;  or,  specifically, 


g^glj  in  geology,  a  region  of  considerable  extent 
•  which  is  almost  if  not  quite  destitute  of  vege- 
tation, and  hence  uninhabited,  chiefly  on 
account  of  an  insufficient  supply  of  rain." 

This,  doubtless,  is  an  accurate  definition,  yet  all  of  the  region 
described  in  these  pages,  though  commonly  included  in  the 
boundaries  of  the  Colorado  Desert,  by  no  means  comes  under 
so  rigid  a  description. 

Indeed,  in  actual  fact,  there  are  no  such  regions  known  upon 
our  earth;  for  the  Great  Sahara,  the  desert  of  all  known  deserts, 
which  covers  an  area  of  3,500,000  square  miles,  "though  dis- 
tinguished by  aridity  of  climate,  scarcity  of  running  water,  dry- 
ness of  atmosphere,  and  a  comparative  paucity  of  vegetable  and 
animal  life,  has  rainfall,  streamways,  vegetation,  and  diversity 
of  configuration."  Furthermore,  far  from  being  uninhabited,  it 
has  a  population  of  2,500,000  people,  or  an  average  of  seven- 
tenths  of  one  person  to  the  square  mile. 

Few  people,  even  those  who  live  within  a  few  miles  of  the 
desert,  have  any  right  understanding  of  what  it  is.  The  popular 
conception  is  that  a  desert  is  all  sand,  —  barren,  desolate,  un- 
fruitful, shifting  sands,  where  the  heat  is  frightful  and  where 
nothing  can  live  save  horned  toads,  lizards,  snakes,  chuckwallas, 
and  gila  monsters.  This  is  far  from  the  truth.  Read  the  fol- 
lowing descriptions  of  the  mountains.  This  is  all  desert  region, 
except  on  the  higher  parts  of  the  snow  and  tree  clad  San  Jacinto 
and  San  Bernardino  ranges.  Read  the  account  of  the  flowers 
seen  between  Mecca  and  the  Brooklyn  Mine  in  April,   1906. 

xix 


xx  Introductory 

Yet  this  is  all  desert.     In  a  month  after  April  the  flowers  were 
practically  gone,  and  some  years  few  flowers  are  to  be  seen. 

In  the  year  1905  twenty-two  inches  of  rain  fell  on  one  part 
of  the  Colorado  Desert.  Such  is  the  desolation,  the  treelessness, 
the  "soil-lessness''  of  the  region  that  in  a  few  hours  after  a 
rain,  that  would  be  productive  of  great  good  for  weeks  in  a  well- 
wooded  and  good-soiled  country,  scarcely  a  trace  remains.  The 
water  sinks  out  of  sight  to  be  lost  in  the  shattered  rock  strata, 
or  even  where  there  is  sand  there  is  no  solid  rock  or  clay  sub- 
stratum to  make  water-pockets,  so  that  the  water  rapidly  seeps 
away.     In  places  the  slope  of  the  country  and  the  lack  of  soil 


Entrance  to  Murray  Canyon 

and  verdure  allow  the  water  to  flow  rapidly  and  uninterruptedly 
to  the  nearest  "wash,"  from  whence  it  dashes  in  increased 
volume,  power,  and  speed  to  the  nearest  river  or  "sink,"  there 
to  evaporate  in  the  fierce  heat  of  the  sun. 

To  most  people  the  Colorado  Desert  is  not  only  a  place  devoid 
of  interest,  but  absolutely  to  be  shunned,  feared,  dreaded.  If  they 
must  journey  across  it,  they  do  so  as  hastily  as  possible  in  the  fastest 
train,  surrounded  by  all  the  luxuries  modern  travel  can  give:  the 
blinds  of  the  car  drawn  down  if  the  journey  is  made  by  day,  and 
with  a  sigh  of  relief  and  thankfulness  if  it  is  made  by  night. 

In  other  words,  civilization  has  taught  us  to  dread  a  place 
that  we  should  often  seek.  The  Arabs  speak  of  the  desert  as 
"The  Garden  of  Allah,"  and  he  who  has  lived  unworthily  must 


Introductory  xxi 

not  desecrate  it  by  treading  in  its  holy  precincts,  unless  he  goes 
with  penitence  and  prayer.  In  the  desert  the  soul  of  man  finds 
itself  as  nowhere  else  on  earth.  Here  are  solitude  and  God, 
both  necessary,  and  the  only  necessaries  to  the  full  awakening 
of  the  human  soul.  The  Arab  has  learned  this.  He  has  a 
keener  spiritual  sense  than  his  material  occidental  brother.  The 
footsteps  of  Allah  are  often  heard  in  His  desert  garden,  and  the 
Arab  goes  to  seek  and  follow  them.  He  sits  in  the  silence  and 
listens  for  the  voices  that  speak  to  his  soul  in  the  absolute  still- 
ness of  the  desert  at  the  midnight  hour.  And  what  these  voices 
declare  he  verily  believes  and  obeys. 

But  in  the  material  sense  the  Colorado  Desert  is  a  place  of 
fascination  and  surprises.  On  every  hand  are  strange,  wonderful, 
and  beautiful  things, — things  that  are  unknown  to  cities  and  to  the 
unobservant  anywhere.  No  hall  of  necromancers  can  equal  the 
desert  in  its  marvels  and  revelations.  Wonder  follows  wonder  in 
quick  succession.  And  though  constant  association  changes  the 
surprise  and  amazement  of  first  impressions  to  a  steady  and  ever- 
growing affection,  the  wonder  and  marvel  of  it  never  grow  dim. 

Yet  it  is  true  that  the  desert  is  not  for  everybody.  He  who 
loves  comfort  and  ease  more  than  knowledge  and  power;  who 
is  afraid  of  hardship,  solitude,  heat,  and  general  discomfort;  who 
values  the  neatness  of  his  appearance  and  cleanliness  of  his 
apparel  more  than  filling  himself  with  experiences  strange  and 
novel,  and  coming  in  contact  with  some  of  the  most  wonderful 
things  of  nature,  had  better  remain  away.  The  desert  will 
flout  him.  Its  winds  will  toss  his  well-combed  locks  astray  and 
disarrange  his  dainty  apparel;  its  storms  will  beat  upon  him  and 
make  him  fear  the  deluge,  as  well  as  wash  the  starch  out  of  his 
collar;  its  alkali  and  bitter  waters  will  nauseate  and  disgust  him, 
and  its  sands  make  his  bed  a  place  of  unrest  and  mourning. 
Its  lack  of  all  native  foods  (except  in  a  few  favored  localities) 
will  offend  his  epicureanism,  for  to  live  on  "condemned"  foods 
is  not  agreeable  to  a  pampered  palate.  Here  are  no  smoking, 
lounging,    or   writing   rooms.     Out-of-doors   has   to    answer   for 


xxii  Introductory 

every  purpose,  and  many  scores  of  pages  have  I  had  to  write  on 
my  knee,  or  on  a  box,  or  even  my  suit  case  converted  into  an 
extemporized  writing  desk. 

No!  No!  Pampered  and  feasted  sons  and  daughters  of 
cities,  don't  come  to  the  desert.  It  is  not  for  you.  You  have 
deliberately  chosen  your  mode  of  life.  It  shuts  you  out  from 
much  of  what  is  great  and  grand  and  educative  and  real;  but 
having  thus  shut  yourselves  out,  don't  try  to  break  down  the 
barrier.  If  you  do  you  will  have  a  "hard  time"  and  return 
home  wearied,  disgusted,  and  disgruntled.  Far  better  read  the 
desert  through  the  eyes  of  those  who,  while  appreciating  what 
your  life  has  to  give  to  the  hungry  soul,  prefer  the  larger,  fuller, 
realer  life  of  contact  with  uncontaminated  nature. 

The  name,  Colorado  Desert,  was  first  applied  to  this  region  by 
Professor  W.  P.  Blake,  when,  as  geologist  of  the  expedition  for 
determining  the  best  railroad  route  from  the  Mississippi  River  to 
the  Pacific  Ocean,  he  made  a  comprehensive  study  of  the  desert. 
There  is  no  denying  that  the  use  of  the  word  "Colorado"  has 
been  a  great  source  of  misleading  to  those  who  jump  to  con- 
clusions. Just  as  the  "Grand  Canyon  of  the  Colorado"  has 
been  supposed  (and  still  is)  by  thousands  to  be  located  in  Col- 
orado, so  is  the  Colorado  Desert  supposed  to  occupy  a  portion 
of  that  great  state  of  mineral  wealth.  For  that  reason,  therefore, 
the  use  of  the  name  is  to  be  deplored,  though  Professor  Blake  is 
deserving  of  the  thanks  of  the  world  of  intelligent  readers  and 
students  for  giving  this  section  of  the  great  Sonoranian  Desert 
a  name  which   positively  identifies  it. 

Dr.  Walter  T.  Swingle,  in  his  monograph  on  the  Date  Palm, 
advocates  a  change  in  the  name.     Here  is  his  argument  in  full: 

"In  the  United  States  the  term  '  desert'  is  applied  to  unirrigated 
or  uncultivated  arid  regions,  and  as  fast  as  such  areas  are  re- 
claimed and  put  to  profitable  culture  by  means  of  irrigation,  they 
cease  to  be  called  deserts  and  receive  some  other  name.  The  ap- 
pellation 'desert'  is  a  hindrance  to  real-estate  transactions,  and  is 


Introductory 


felt  to  be  unjust  and  opprobrious  by  those  who  live  in  the  midst  of 
flourishing  fruit  orchards  and  alfalfa  fields.  Doubtless  the  same 
change  of  name  will  take  place  in  the  case  of  the  Colorado  Des- 
ert, and  indeed  the  misleading  term  'Colorado  Delta'  has  already 
been  applied  to  the  newly  irrigated  lands  about  Imperial  and  Cal- 
exico.  The  true  delta  of  the  Colorado  River  lies  to  the  southward, 
where  this  stream  enters  the  Gulf  of  California.  The  region  in 
question  might  very  appropriately  be  called  the  Salton  Basin,  in- 
asmuch as  it  is  a  true  basin,  an  area  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
mountains  or  higher  lands  and 
depressed  far  below  sea-level 
in  the  center,  where  its  most 
prominent  topographical  fea- 
ture, Salton  Lake  or  Salton 
Sink,  is  located.  Throughout 
this  bulletin  Salton  Basin  is 
used  instead  of  Colorado  Des- 
ert to  designate  the  lower  parts 
of  the  lands  sloping  toward 
Salton  Lake,  a  region  limited 
on  the  north  by  the  San  Ber-  Indian  woman  carrying  palm  leaves 
nardino    Mountains,    on    the 

west  by  the  San  Jacinto  Mountains,  and  extending  southward 
into  Mexico  to  the  line  beyond  which  the  delta  lands  slope  toward 
the  Gulf  of  California." 

The  difficulty  with  Dr.  Swingle's  suggestion  is  that  it  applies 
to  a  portion,  only,  of  the  region  under  consideration,  and  not  to  the 
whole.  The  San  Bernardino  Mountains  and  the  detached  ranges 
north,  which  lead  to  the  Mohave  Desert,  are  a  part  of  the  Colorado 
Desert,  and  they  could  not  be  included  in  the  Salton  Basin. 

A  very  common  and  erroneous  impression  is  that  one  can 
stand  in  the  Colorado  Desert,  at  say  Palm  Springs  station,  and  see 
the  range  of  mountains  that  separates  the  Colorado  Desert  from 
that  of  the  Mohave.  Such  is  not  the  case.  There  is  not  only 
no  mountain  range  dividing  them,  but  there  is  nothing  else  that 


Introductory 


divides  them.  There  is  no  authority  yet  who  has  divided  them, 
or  said  where  one  begins  and  the  other  ends.  There  is  no 
natural  boundary  whatever,  and,  therefore,  should  one  be  estab- 
lished, it  would  be  as  purely  arbitrary  as  are  the  lines  of  merid- 
ian.    For  the  purpose  of  this  book  I  have  established  such  an 

arbitrary  boundary.     Taking  the 
San  Gorgonio  Pass   as  the  north- 
west   entrance    to   the    Colorado 
Desert,  and  Mounts  San  Gorgonio 
and  San  Jacinto  as  its  northwest- 
ern  sentinels,  I   have 
placed  the  boundary  line 
between    San  Bernardino 
and  Riverside  Counties  as 
the    northern    limit,    the 
Colorado     River    as   the 
eastern   limit,  the  bound- 
j^Js   ary   line    between    the 
United  States  and  Mexico 
it/  ,     as  the  southern  limit,  and 
the    San   Jacinto    range, 
with    its    southern    exten- 
sions,   going    down     into 
Mexico,    as   the    western 
limit. 

From  these  lines  it 
will  be  seen  that  the 
Colorado  Desert  is  con- 
fined within  the  two 
counties  of  San  Diego  and  Riverside.  That  it  extends  beyond 
the  Colorado  River  into  Arizona,  and  also  below  the  boundary 
line  into  Mexico,  all  are  well  aware,  but  I  shall  practically 
ignore  these  extensions  in  the  following  pages. 

There  being  so  much  of  vague  mystery  about  the  desert,  and 
so  few  really  knowing  anything  about  it,  one  need  not  wonder 


A  "well 
dressed ' 
palm- 
in 


Andreas  Canyon 


Introductory  xxv 

that  many  untrue  and  silly  things  have  been  circulated  about  it. 
For  instance,  not  long  ago  a  Los  Angeles  newspaper  published  a 
brief  account  of  the  "Palm  Grove"  in  Palm  Canyon,  and  with 
fine  flourishes  told  that  the  palms,  being  dependent  upon  the 
heat  from  the  live  volcano  "that  stands  near,"  will  soon  die. 
Here  is  the  sage  statement:  "There  is  coming  a  time,  however, 
when  the  grove  will  be  no  more.  The  heated  conditions  of  the 
volcano  which  are  necessary  for  the  growth  of  the  palm  are 
gradually  subsiding,  though  internal  disturbances  show  that  it 
has  some  fire,  and  recent  earthquakes  of  but  a  few  years  past  pro- 
claim the  powers  of  eruption  not  yet  quenched,  yet  these  are 
gradually  becoming  extinct.  They  are  in  fact  scarce  worthy  of  con- 
sideration; the  time  will  not  be  long  distant  when  this  mountain 
will  be  perfectly  quiet.  The  reduction  of  its  temperature,  which 
is  necessary  for  perfect  and  gigantic  Washingtonia,  is  the  means  of 
causing  the  death  of  this  noble  grove.  The  trees  nourished  by 
the  volcano  of  San  Jacinto  are  now  dying  with  the  mountain." 

This  whole  quotation  is  folly,  pure  and  simple,  from  beginning 
to  end.  San  Jacinto  shows  no  more  volcanic  heat  than  Wall 
Street  in  New  York,  and  the  idea  that  such  heat,  which  burns 
and  destroys,  should  be  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  the 
life  of  the  palms  is  neither  based  upon  observation  nor  reason. 

As  recently  as  1882  a  namesake  of  my  own  wrote  an  article 
in  the  Popular  Science  Monthly,  which,  while  giving  a  fair 
general  account  of  the  desert,  stated  several  "facts  that  are  not 
so,"  as,  for  instance:  "Men  can  only  be  induced  to  work  on  the 
railroad  by  offering  them  increased  wages,"  —  "Rain  never  falls 
on  this  desert  in  the  natural  manner,"  —  and  after  describing 
certain  gullies,  —  "These  are  caused  by  the  rush  of  water  from 
cloudbursts  and  waterspouts."  Speaking  of  the  sand-dunes 
and  the  effect  of  the  shifting  sands  upon  the  railway  tracks,  "It 
has  been  found  necessary  to  have  a  relay  of  men  constantly  on  the 
ground,  and  every  day  they  are  engaged  in   clearing  the  track." 

It  has  been  the  persistence  of  such  erroneous  statements  that 
has  so  misled  people  in  regard  to  the  facts. 


xxvi  Introductory 

During  the  excitement  caused  by  the  overflow  of  the  Colorado 
River  into  the  Salton  Sink,  in  1890,  readers  of  the  newspapers 
saw  many  references  to  the  river  known  as  Hardy's  Colorado. 
A  vast  amount  of  mmnformation  has  been  generally  disseminated 
about  this  river  and  how  it  came  by  its  name. 

R.  W.  H.  Hardy  was  a  lieutenant  in  the  Royal  Navy  of  Eng- 
land. In  1825  he  was  engaged  in  the  capacity  of  a  Commissioner 
by  the  General  Pearl  and  Coral  Fishery  Association  of  London 
to  visit  Mexico  and  report  upon  the  pearl  and  coral  fisheries  of 
that  country.  In  the  discharge  of  that  duty  he  made  extensive 
travels  in  Mexico  from  1825  to  1828,  and  in  1829  published  in 


Church  at  Palm  Springs 


London  a  full  account  of  his  experiences.  He  embarked  at 
Guaymas  and  investigated  the  pearl  fisheries  of  the  Gulf  of  Cali- 
fornia. He  was  interested  in  exploring  the  head  of  the  gulf, 
as  he  had  been  informed  that  an  Italian  priest  had  brought 
away,  as  the  result  of  two  months'  work,  $200,000  in  native 
gold  and  pearls.  The  gold  had  been  washed  down  by  the 
Colorado  River  and  was  to  be  picked  up  by  the  bucketful. 
As  he  neared  the  head  of  the  gulf,  Lieutenant  Hardy  says  he 
determined  to  "stand  out  more  into  the  middle  of  the  gulf, 
by  which  means  I  hoped,  at  daylight,  to  get  sight  of  the  Rio 
Colorado,  into  which  I  wished  to  enter  for  the  purpose  of  procur- 
ing a  supply  of  provisions  from  the  Indians,  and  of  picking  up 
gold  dust  at  the  same  time."     The  poor  lieutenant  had  a  hard 


om 

I 

Q  & 

<t     Jo 

c 

1 

*? 

rn 

-c 

^ 

Q. 

o 

Rio  Co 

ByLieut.R 

xxviii  Introductory 

time.  His  captain  and  crew  were  about  useless,  and  in  spite  of 
all  his  endeavors  he  came  near  having  a  shipwreck,  owing  to  the 
sandy  shoals  at  the  mouth  of  the  river.  These  shoals  bothered 
him  exceedingly,  as  they  have  done  every  other  navigator  of  the 
region.  He  could  not  realize  that  the  vast  amount  of  sandy 
silt  being  constantly  brought  down  by  the  Colorado  rendered 
charts  of  ten  years  or  more  ago  useless.  Finally  he  reached  what 
he  supposed  was  the  Rio  Colorado,  and  he  describes  its  three 
mouths  and  also  the  troubles  he  had  with  the  strong  ebb  and 
flow  of  the  tides.  He  also  gives  a  map,  here  reproduced,  showing 
what  he  conceived  to  be  the  Colorado  with 
the  Gila  River  flowing  into  it.  In  the  lieu- 
tenant's troubles  and  worries  over  the  tide 
and  the  wretched  seamanship  of  his  sailors  he 
confused  the  Colorado  with  the  Gila,  which 
latter  was  yet  scores  of  miles  above,  and  took 
for  the  Colorado  a 
smaller  and,  as  yet, 
unnamed  stream 
coming  in  on  the  west. 
When,  after  the  pub- 
lication of  his  map, 
it  was  found  what  an 
error  he  had  made,  it 
became  customary  to 
refer  to  this  unnamed 
river  as  Hardy  s  Colorado,  a  name  it  has  retained  to  this  day. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  the  distinguished  lieutenant 
did  not  get  the  gold  he  expected.  He  reports  the  sand  to  be 
"full  of  a  glittering  sort  of  tinsel,  which  shines  beautifully  when 
the  sun  is  upon  it."  For  twenty-six  days  he  navigated  the 
"Rio  Colorado"  and  departed  at  length  satisfied  that  he  knew  a 
great  deal  about  the  region.  Such  is  fame,  and  such  is  the 
history  of  the  origin  of  the  name  "Hardy's  Colorado." 

Perhaps  I  may  be  pardoned  for  here  calling  attention  to  a 


Aqueduct  rounding  one  of  the  spurs 
of  the  San  Jacinto  range 


Introductory  xxix 

matter  that  is  somewhat  personal.  In  one  sense  it  is  so,  yet  in 
another  it  is  more  than  personal.  It  is  in  regard  to  pictures  of 
the  desert  used  by  other  authors  to  illustrate  their  works.  The 
one  picture  that  appears  as  a  frontispiece  to  John  C.  Van  Dyke's 
"The  Desert"  was  made  by  my  photographer,  George  L.  Rose, 
under  my  direction,  when  he  accompanied  me  to  the  Hopi 
villages.  It  is  of  that  part  of  the  Painted  Desert  overlooked 
by  the  road  which  ascends  from  the  valley  of  the  Little  Colorado 
River  between  Volz's  Crossing  and  his  store  at  The  Lakes. 

In  Burdick's  "Mystic  Mid  Region"  the  photograph  on  page 
3  was  made  under  similar  circumstances  by  my  friend  C.  C. 
Pierce  of  Los  Angeles,  who  accompanied  me  to  photograph  the 
Hopis  and  the  Snake  Dance  at  a  later  date.  The  picture  was 
first  used  by  me  as  the  frontispiece  to  my  "Indians  of  the  Painted 
Desert  Region."  In  this  same  book  of  Mr.  Burdick's  are  sixteen 
other  photographs  of  my  own  taking. 

These  facts  serve  to  indicate  that  I  have  helped  others  make 
this  fascinating  region  known  to  the  world  at  large. 

Some  words  on  the  desert  have  a  meaning  peculiarly  their 
own.  For  instance,  the  word  "inside"  refers  to  the  region  away 
from  the  desert.  "Where  did  you  get  these  eggs?"  you  ask. 
"They  came  from  inside!"  is  the  reply.  If  you  inquire  where 
the  miners  buy  their  provisions  they  will  tell  you,  "I  don't  often 
buy  on  the  desert,  I  generally  buy  from  inside,"  thereby  meaning 
the  towns  of  the  inner  country,  as  Colton,  Riverside,  San  Ber- 
nardino, Los  Angeles,  etc. 

These  pages  gather  together  the  loose  threads  of  twenty-five 
years  of  desert  observations  and  experiences,  —  not  all  of  them  con- 
fined to  the  Colorado  Desert.  In  making  this  book,  however,  I 
found  such  a  wealth  of  material,  much  of  it  peculiar  to  the  Colorado 
Desert,  that  I  decided  to  confine  myself,  as  far  as  geographical 
boundaries  were  concerned,  to  its  comparatively  limited  area. 

From  many  sources  I  have  received  help.  Miners  and  pros- 
pectors, railway  section-men,  homesteaders,  farmers,  woodmen, 


Introductory 


students,  artists,  naturalists,  editors,  county  officials,  and  sur- 
veyors, as  well  as  various  writers,  have  given  valuable  suggestions, 
and  to  all  of  these  I  tender  my  hearty  and  cordial  thanks. 

Especially  do  I  wish  to  record  my  gratitude  to  my  venerable 
friend,  Dr.  Wellwood  Murray  of  Palm  Springs,  the  friend  of 
Thomas  Carlyle,  Adam  and  Charles  Black,  the  Chambers  broth- 
ers and  other  literary  notables  of  the  Edinburgh  of  fifty  years  ago. 
From  this  center  of  culture  he  came  to  the  desert,  and  for  thirty 
years  has  studied  it,  worked  over  it,  and  sought  to  understand  its 
mysteries  and  penetrate  its  secrets.  Without  reserve  Dr.  Murray 
has  poured  forth  the  wealth  of  his  personal  experiences  and 
given  of  his  valuable  suggestions. 

To  Dr.  Walter  T.  Swingle,  Physiologist  in  charge 
of  the  Laboratory  of  Plant  Life  Industry  in  Wash- 
ington, D.C.,  I  am  also  indebted.  Dr.  Swingle  is 
much  interested  in  the  Salton  Basin,  and  it  is  to 
this  interest  we  owe  the  establishment  at  Mecca 
of  the  government's  experimental  date  farm. 

The  desert  itself,  however,  has  been  my  chief 
inspiration.  Upon  its  northwestern  edge  I  have  a 
camp  of  my  own.  Within  five  and  a  half  hours' 
ride  from  my  Pasadena  home,  where  library  and 
pictures  and  piano  and  flowers  and  birds  and  con- 
genial society  all  conspire  to  keep  me  (even  were 
there  no  loved  ones  in  the  home  itself),  I  have  found 
this  desert  a  resting  place.  Up  in  a  canyon,  on  the  northeastern 
slope  of  the  great  San  Jacinto  range,  where  seeping  water  makes  a 
"cienega"  and  gives  life  to  a  good  sized  patch  of  grass;  where  a 
little  extra  pasturage  can  be  found  for  my  mules  and  burros;  where  ' 
some  one,  sometime,  planted  a  fig  tree,  which  has  grown  to  rugged 
maturity  and  rich  bearing;  where  there  is  a  hot  spring  to  bathe  in, 
and  a  cold  spring  to  drink  from;  sheltered  on  one  side  by  one  of 
the  steepest,  if  not  the  steepest  and  highest  wall  in  the  world,  and 
on  the  other  with  an  outlook  over  illimitable  wastes  of  desert  land, 
here  is  where  I  love  to  come  and  rest,  think,  and  write. 


Introductory  xxxi 

Solitary?  No!  Why  should  I  be  solitary,  even  though  no 
other  human  beings  are  with  me  ?  Solitary  in  company  with  a 
majestic  mountain  that  speaks  a  mystic  tongue 


that  I  am  slowly  learning  to  comprehend;  with 
a  hot  spring  gurgling 


Volcanic 

upthrust  of 
San  Jacinto  Mountains   ^ 


ib£  „£ft.  >o"  gp. 


every  moment  of  wonders  in  the  earth's  interior  that  I  can  only  guess 
at;  with  a  cold  spring  not  a  hundred  yards  away  that  tells  of  cool 


xxxii  Introductory 

mountain  heights,  where  snow-banks  lie  all  the  year  around,  even 
though  the  hot  blasts  from  the  desert  try  to  reach  and  destroy 
them;  with  friendly  burros  to  come  and  seek  for  titbits  from  the 
table  and  act  more  human  than  most  of  the  humans  who  have 
become  over-civilized  in  cities;  with  the  coyotes  looking  so  wise 
and  yet  cowardly,  so  impertinently  yet  so  sneakingly  at  you;  with 
tiny  lizards  darting  to  and  fro  and  perking  their  heads  on  one 
side  so  cunningly  at  you;  with  an  occasional  rattlesnake  to  watch, 
to  follow,  and  to  kill;  with  the  mountain-sheep  to  peer  down  upon 
you  from  inaccessible  mountain  heights  as  if  despising  you  for 
being  so  civilized  as  to  be  content  to  live  in  places  where  you  can 
move  about  with  ease;  with  the  hoarse  growl  of  the  mountain 
lion  occasionally  in  your  ears,  and  the  sniff,  snuff,  woof  of  the 
bear  now  and  again  as  an  accompaniment;  with  the  murmur  of 
the  tiny  stream  flowing  away  from  the  springs  and  pathetically 
telling  of  its  own  speedy  death  in  the  sandy  wastes  below;  with 
the  quaint  palms,  standing  like  graceful  sentinels  making  pro- 
found obeisance,  near  by,  —  can  one  be  solitary  with  such  com- 
panions as  these,  especially  when,  in  addition,  he  has  such  stars 
and  skies  as  the  city  dweller  never  sees;  such  an  horizon  as  only 
the  desert  dweller  knows;  such  sunrises  and  sunsets  and  morning 
and  evening  glows  as  only  angels  can  understand  the  glory  of; 
such  silences;  such  voices  out  of  the  far  away;  such  weirdness; 
such  mystery;  such  winds;  such  storms;  such  calms  ?  Ah,  no! 
there  is  no  solitude  in  such  presences,  for  is  not  one  with  himself, 
with  his  ideals,  with  his  dreams,  with  his  ambitions,  with  the 
great  ones  of  the  past  and  the  great  ones  of  the  future,  with 
the  achievements  and  life  of  the  ages,  and,  better  than  all,  with 
the  source  and  origin  of  it  all,  with  God  ? 

No!  No!  I  have  felt  more  solitary  and  alone,  more  utterly 
desolate  and  forsaken,  when  walking  through  the  streets  of  London 
and  Paris,  New  York  and  Chicago,  than  I  have  ever  felt  in  all 
my  years  of  desert  experiences. 

I  go  to  the  desert  with  specific  objects  in  view.  I  go  for  health, 
for  inspiration,  for  work.     The  desert  is  God's  great  health-giving 


Introductory  xxxiii 

laboratory.  It  is  the  manufactory  of  health  where  are  to  be 
found  purest  sunshine,  purest  air,  purest  soil.  Disease  flees 
away  in  such  presences.  With  the  freedom  of  the  wild  animals 
one  sleeps  on  mother  Earth's  bosom  and  absolutely,  literally, 
positively  draws  life  and  vigor  from  her  maternal  founts,  — 
draws  it  in  through  every  possible  avenue;  every  pore  of  the 
skin  drinking  it  in  with  eager  avidity. 

Come  with  me  to  my  desert  home.  The  house  is  only  a  rude 
lumber  shack  with  one  room,  in  which  is  a  cook-stove,  a  table, 
a  few  utensils,  and  a  couple  of  chairs, —  the  latter  rude,  home- 


"'^^*^!fe^£>^fe-i  WfC\'-i>K^*^  ^ 


c^ 


'€^^<jMs:^:y  '     Outlook  from  the  author's 
„^«  ■.  ^■'^■i/>  home  in  Chino  Canyon 

made  affairs.  "  But,"  you  ask,  "  don't  you  have  a  sleeping-room  ? " 
Certainly!  Here  it  is!  Did  you  ever  see  a  more  wonderful  one  ? 
I  have  been  in  the  palaces  of  Windsor  and  Buckingham  and 
Sandringham  and  Versailles.  I  have  slept  in  the  palace  bed- 
rooms made  by  kings  for  their  queens  and  mistresses,  where 
costly  decorations  worth  a  great  general's  ransom  give  rich  grace 
and  elegance  to  the  scene.  Yet  not  all  of  them  combined  can 
compare  in  perfect  beauty  and  profuse  adornment  with  this  of 
mine.  And  large  ?  It  is  so  large  that  these  kingly  palace  bed- 
rooms appear  mean  and  insignificant  beside  it.  It  reaches  for 
miles  and  miles  to  the  north,  even  as  far  as  the  Aurora  Borealis; 
to  the  south,  to  its  pole;  to  the  east,  to  the  rising  sun;  to  the  west, 


xxxi'v  Introductory 

to  where  the  sun  bathes  in  the  ocean  of  the  sunset,  and  its  ceil- 
ing is  millions  of  miles  high,  decorated  by  the  Master  Artist  him- 
self with  moons  and  planets  and  wandering  stars  set  in  a  vault 
of  such  matchless  blue  as  makes  pale  and  faded  the  Tyrian  blue 
of  which  Solomon  was  so  proud.  And  its  ventilation!  How 
often  have  I  longed  for  that  system  of  ventilation  when  vainly 
tossing  to  and  fro  on  comfortable  beds  in  rooms  equipped  with 
the  most  elaborate  and  expensive  of  man's  artificial  ventilating 
apparatus.  Here  the  air  is  always  fresh  and  pure,  bracing  and 
stimulating,  and  at  night-time,  except  in  the  heat  of  summer,  can 


The  author's  desert  home 


be  described  only  by  the  one  word,  "delicious."  It  feels  good  to 
be  alive  in  such  air;  every  part  of  the  body  responds  to  the  good 
feeling,  the  hands  and  arms  are  allowed  to  rest  outside  the  bed- 
clothes, the  head  and  neck  are  exposed,  the  feet  kick  away  the 
covers,  and  both  before  and  after  going  to  sleep  one  again  and 
again  lets  the  air  flow  in  and  caress  the  whole  body.  This  is  to 
take  in  life  and  energy  in  large  quantities,  this  is  to  drink  in  vim 
and  creative  power  from  the  fountain-head. 

Then  my  morning,  afternoon,  and  evening  bath!  There  is 
nothing  like  it  that  I  know  of  anywhere  else  in  the  world.  We 
have  read  of  Cleopatra's  baths  in  asses'  and  camels'  milk,  and 


Introductory  xxxv 

various  sybarites  of  all  time  have  indulged  in  costly  luxuries  in 
the  way  of  baths,  but  none  of  them  ever  equaled  mine.  The  water 
is  always  on  tap  and  always  hot.  It  comes  bubbling  up  out  of 
the  rocks  and  sand  at  the  rate  of  several  score  gallons  an  hour. 
The  rocks  form  a  natural  bath-tub  which  the  Indians  of  the 
region  have  thoroughly  cleaned  out;  then  we  have  had  it  covered 
with  beautiful  palm-leaves,  —  great,  flat-surfaced,  natural  thatch, 
— and  now  ten  or  fifteen  people  can  bathe  in  it  at  one  time.  For  a 
dressing-room  Nature 
has  also  been  good. 
There  are  several  tall 
and  stately  palms  close 


1 1  iii 


ir 


Mm 


^  mm 


Jill 

Hot  spring  where  the  author  bathes  in 
Chino  Canyon 

by,  the  leaves  of  which  make  as  good  flooring  and  carpeting  as  one 
desires  out  in  the  desert,  and  the  palms  are  so  large  and  outspread- 
ing and  are  so  arranged  that  several  dressing-rooms  are  provided, 
where,  in  perfect  seclusion,  one  may  don  his  (or  her)  bathing  suit. 
But  when  I  am  alone  I  need  no  other  suit  than  that  provided  at  my 
birth.  Now,  into  the  bath!  Gently  at  first,  for  the  water  is  over 
ioo  Fahrenheit,  and  that  is  hot,  but  the  body  soon  becomes  accus- 
tomed to  it.     Yes!  accustomed  to  and  delio-hted  with  it.     You  lie 


xxxvi  Introductory 

down,  and  the  water,  charged  with  gases  and  bubbling  up  from  be- 
low, strikes  your  body,  and  you  feel  as  if  you  were  having  a  bath  in 
hot  champagne.  The  pool  is  large  enough  to  float  in,  and  with  the 
body  partially  in  and  partially  out  of  the  water  the  sensations  are 
delicious.  When  you  have  had  enough,  out  you  come,  and  oh, 
what  a  surprise!  The  difference  in  the  temperature  of  the  air 
and  that  of  the  water  seems  as  if  it  would  chill  you  through. 
For  as  long  a  time  as  a  plunge  in  and  out  of  a  swimming  tank 
after  you  have  taken  a  Turkish  bath,  you  feel  the  cold  shock  of 
the  air,  then,  gradually,  there  diffuses  over  the  whole  body,  even 
while  you  are  still  drying  yourself  and  exposed  fully  to  the  at- 
mosphere, a  delicious  sensation  of  warmth  and  stimulus  that  can 
be  neither  described  nor  imagined.  I  never  felt  anything  like 
it  in  any  bath  I  have  ever  had,  and  I  have  been  through  com- 
plete courses  in  various  hydropathic  establishments  of  Europe 
and  America  as  well  as  shared  in  the  varied  baths  of  our  abo- 
rigines. The  whole  being  seems  exhilarated;  you  want  to  run 
and  shout  and  work;  your  brain  is  as  alert  and  active  and  anxious 
for  work  as  is  the  body  of  a  chamois,  and  when  night  comes 
you  feel  that  that  day  at  least  has  been  full  of  physical  and  mental 
joy.  You  compare  your  lot  with  that  of  Bismarck,  who,  at 
eighty,  wrote  that  in  the  whole  of  his  life  he  had  never  known 
twenty-four  hours' happiness.  Poor  fellow!  Poor  wretch!  Here 
have  you  had  almost  twelve  hours  of  pure,  unadulterated  hap- 
piness in  one  single  day. 


Chino  Canyon, 

Colorado  Desert, 
October,  igo6. 


CARL    EYTEL 

The  Artist  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

J&L,  -  SfcttP^^  aS°  m  t^ie  R°yal  Library  at  Stuttgart,  Ger- 
mtf: <i •'•■'■ '  '■•  P&  many,  a  quiet,  studious,  reflective  boy,  the  son 

SfPlH  |    of  a  Lutheran  minister  of   an  adjacent  village, 

\ ili^^  might    have    been   seen   poring  over   Hum- 

^H^^JlHMr  "'_J      boldt's  vivid  descriptions  of  California  and 
the  deserts  he  had  to  cross  to  reach  it.    The 
impressions  then  received  remained  deeply  lodged  in  his  inmost 
heart. 

He  had  the  artistic  instinct,  had  this  lad.  He  was  especially 
fond  of  cattle,  and  two  of  the  ambitions  of  his  earliest  years  were, 
first,  that  he  might  see  the  great  deserts  of  the  West;  and  second, 
that  he  might  paint  them  and  his  beloved  cattle. 

It  was  not  strange,  therefore,  that  when  he  left  home  he  should 
aim  as  directly  as  he  could  for  the  region  of  his  many  dreams. 

His  first  year  and  a  half  in  the  United  States  were  spent  in 
Kansas,  where  he  worked  on  a  cattle  ranch,  gaining  that  infinite 
knowledge  of  cattle  which  he  knew  he  must  attain  for  his  art 
Then  he  struck  out  for  California,  still  keeping  his  ambitions  in 
mind.  He  followed  the  plow,  drove  the  hay-wagon,  pitched 
hay,  and  did  all  the  thousand  and  one  little  things  that  a  handy 
man  is  set  to  do  on  a  ranch,  all  the  time  longing  for  the  day  to 
come  when  he  should  be  free  to  devote  more  time  to  the  study 
of  art.  Secretly  and  with  inward  trepidation  lest  he  be  found 
out,  for  he  was  always  shy  and  retiring,  he  spent  his  evenings, 
when  possible,  in  sketching  and  trying  to  teach  himself  how  to 
paint.  Like  Lincoln,  reading  by  the  light  of  his  open  fire,  he 
spent  many  an  hour,  when  he  should  have  been  in  bed,  grappling 
unaided  with  the  first  problems  of  drawing  and  painting. 

xxxvii 


The  Artist  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


For  a  year  and  a  half  he  engaged  himself  to  work  in  a  slaughter- 
house, as  he  could  find  no  other  occupation  where  he  could 
earn  his  livelihood  and  study  cattle  at  the  same  time.  Here 
he  rode  after  them  as  a  cowboy,  —  went  on  the  roads,  —  as- 
sisted in  cutting  them  out,  branding  and  separating  them,  and 
many  a  bout  has  he  had  with  the  wild  Texas  steer  when  driving 
them  to  the  slaughter. 

A  more  congenial  though  less  exciting  occupation  was  found 
when  he  was  engaged  to  drive  the  mule  that  pumps  water  for 
the  cattle  on  the  great  Miller  and  Lux  ranch  near  Bakersfield. 

For  six  months  he  followed  this 
monotonous  daily  round,  but  his 
eyes  were  ever  on  the  cattle.  He 
studied  them  under  every  condi- 
tion, and  at  every  stage  in  their 
history  from  birth  until  they  were 
driven  to  the  cars  or  the  slaugh- 
ter-house. And  when  night-time 
came,  with  pen  or  brush,  he 
would  seek  faithfully  to  repro- 
duce on  paper  or  canvas  what 
had  most  impressed  him  during 
the  day. 

As  soon  as  he  had  saved  up  a  little  money  he  bought  a  stock 
of  colors,  brushes,  canvases,  pencils,  draw7ing-paper,  and  pro- 
visions and  made  a  bee-line  for  the  desert.  There  he  roamed 
and  painted,  sketched  and  studied,  until  food  and  funds  gave 
out,  when  he  went  on  to  Arizona  and  there  resumed  his  occupa- 
tion. Every  time  his  wages  seemed  large  enough  to  justify  an- 
other desert  trip  he  resigned  his  employment  and  wTent  back  to 
his  painting  and  rambling,  and  this  continued  for  another  two 
and  a  half  years. 

With  this  interesting  territory,  so  new  in  all  its  life  to  the  gently 
nurtured  boy,  he  soon  became  fascinated.  He  loved  its  great 
plateaus,  its  forests,  its  vast   plains,  its  marvelous   canyons,  its 


Saturnino,  a  Palm  Springs  Indian 


The  Artist  of  the  Colorado  Desert  xxxix 

glowing  colors,  its  majestic  mountains,  and  its  singular  plant 
life.  The  wildly  picturesque  life  of  the  cowboy  appealed  to  him, 
though  he  naturally  revolted  at  the  coarseness  and  excess  too 
many  of  the  fraternity  indulged  in.  He  began  to  write  sketches 
to  his  home  papers  in  Germany  of  this  life  as  he  found  it,  and 
illustrated  his  stories  with  drawings  from  his  own  pen  and  brush. 
Then  he  began  to  send  articles  and  sketches  regularly  to  the 
New  Yorker  Staats  Zeitung,  and  he  soon  gained  a  host  of  friends 
by  these  simple  and  unpretentious,  but  real  and  truthful  ac- 
counts of  life  on  the  frontier. 

His  own  life,  however,  still  remained  strenuous  and  arduous. 
Many  a  time  the  battle  seemed  to  be  too  hard,  the  difficulties  to 
be  overcome  too  great,  for  the  poor  and  almost  friendless  youth. 
For,  while  he  was  friendly  enough,  his  reserved  habits  and 
refusal  to  enter  into  the  gay  and  extravagant  carousals  of  his 
fellows  did  not  tend  to  make  him  popular  with  them,  and  he 
was  as  shy  about  revealing  his  secret  as  a  maiden  is  about  telling 
of  her  first  love,  so  that  they  could  not  have  sympathy  with  a 
longing  they  might  have  admired  had  they  known  of  its  existence. 
Sometimes  he  felt  inclined  to  give  up  his  ambitions.  The  years 
were  rolling  along  and  he  was  accomplishing  so  little.  Still 
he  kept  at  it.  Then  doubt  and  despair  tugged  at  his  heart- 
strings until  he  was  utterly  despondent.  But  brighter  days 
would  come  when  all  his  resolutions  and  hopes  would  return. 
And  so  he  has  gone  on  until  now,  for  fourteen  years,  he  has  lived 
much  of  the  time  on  the  desert.  He  has  traversed  its  plains  and 
climbed  its  mountains,  breathed  its  parched  atmosphere,  mingled 
with  its  children, —  the  desert  Indians,  —  studied  its  features, 
its  plants,  its  birds,  its  reptiles,  and  its  animals,  and  has  become 
familiar  with  it  in  all  its  moods.  In  fact  he  has  become  a  veri- 
table "son  of  the  desert,"  as  much  as  any  Bedouin  that  roams 
the  Sinai  peninsula,  or  a  camel-rider  who  journeys  from  the 
Oued  Souf  to  the  Mediterranean. 

From  the  heights  of  its  mountains  he  looked  into  the  great  soli- 
tudes of  the  desert  below  and  watched  the  changing  colors  revealed 


xl  The  Artist  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

in  tawny  sand,  green  oasis,  or  rocky  slope  on  the  opposite  side. 
He  saw  such  shadows  as  only  God  and  the  angels  see;  for  man 
seldom  thinks  of  such  unsubstantial  things  as  shadows,  save  and 
except  such  men  as  Eytel. 

He  studied  the  desert  animals,  the  mountain  lion,  mountain- 
sheep,  wildcat,  coyote,  chipmunk,  and  squirrel,  and  then  watched 
the  birds,  the  eagles,  the  hawks,  the  herons,  the  pelicans,  the  gulls, 
the  mocking-birds,  the  doves,  the  vultures,  and  even  the  rare 
and  seldom  seen,  almost  extinct  condor.  He  also  learned  the 
peculiarities  and  habits  of  the  chaparral  cock,  or  road-runner, 
that  singular  bird  that  is  generally  seen  only  when  running  away 
from  human  beings.  With  outspread  wings  and  long  rapid  strides 
he  rushes  with  great  speed  away  from  the  stranger,  stopping  once 
in  a  while  to  give  his  tail  a  characteristic  upward  jerk,  as  much 
as  to  say,  "I'll  wave  you  a  parting  salute,"  then  he  dodges  behind 
a  bush  or  a  sand-hill  and  is  lost  to  sight.  But  Eytel  followed  and 
made  friends  with  him,  and  was  thus  able  to  watch  him  at  his 
toilet,  when  he  preens  his  feathers,  takes  a  sun  or  sand  bath,  etc. 

Together  Mr.  Eytel  and  I  have  made  trips  where  few  white 
men  have  ever  been  and  where  our  only  trails  were  made  by  moun- 
tain-sheep, deer,  or  antelope. 

Scores  of  the  sketches  in  the  following  pages  were  made  when 
he  went  alone,  hundreds  of  miles  at  a  time,  over  our  American 
Sahara.  Afoot,  last  midwinter,  he  made  one  trip  of  400  miles, — 
thirty  days  of  weary  trails,  of  danger,  hardship,  hunger,  thirst, 
solitude,  and  arduous  toil.  His  itinerary  was  through  a  region 
largely  devoid  of  vegetation  or  water.  He  had  to  provide  for  food, 
drink,  and  sleeping  accommodation  at  the  beginning  of  his  journey. 
This  meant  the  carrying  of  a  pack  which  included  provisions, 
water,  and  blankets.  The  water-holes  and  wells  are  from  twenty 
to  forty  miles  apart  on  the  Colorado  Desert,  and  a  canteen  of 
water  is  a  heavy  load  to  a  walking  man,  especially  when  he  has 
sandy  or  steep,  rocky  trails  to  go  over. 

In  speaking  of  his  experiences  he  is  always  modest  and  reserved. 
Yet  they  have  been  varied  and  exciting.     Once  he  was  seeking  a 


The  Artist  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


xli 


little  Indian  village  for  the  pur- 
pose of  making  sketches  of  its 
rumored  picturesqueness.     He 
left  the  ranch  at  which  he  had 
been  passing  a  few  days,  loaded 
with  directions   for  finding  the 
village  —  and  with  nothing  else. 
He  was  assured   that  he  could 
not  miss  the  way  and  that 
he   could   get  to   the  village 
that  day,  so  he  took  neither 
food   nor  water,  weapons   nor 
matches. 

There  was  a  trail  to  follow 
which  was  to  lead  him  straight 
to  his  destination,  but  the  path 
forked,  and  his  friends  had  for- 
gotten to  tell  him  of  it  and  to 
instruct  him  as  to  which  branch 
of  the  trail  to  follow.  This  led 
him  down  into  a  deep  canyon, 
and  the  canyon  tolled  him 
on  to  finally  bring  him  to  an 
\  insurmountable  wall.  The 
greater  part  of  the  day  was  passed  in  getting  out  of  this  granite 
trap. 


Mountain-sheep 
in  their  haunts 


xlii  The  Artist  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

When  once  again  he  found  himself  upon  the  level  plain  he  was 
thirsty,  hungry,  and  nearly  exhausted  from  climbing  the  steep 
walls  of  the  canyon.  He  felt  that  the  safest  plan  to  pursue  was 
to  return  to  the  ranch  which  he  had  that  morning  left,  and  start 
anew  for  the  Indian  village  another  day. 

.  Near  this  ranch  was  a  mountain  of  peculiar  formation.  He 
saw  before  him  such  a  peak  and  mistook  it  for  the  one  near  the 
ranch.  He  started  on  a  bee-line  for  this  mountain.  A  couple 
of  hours'  brisk  walking  brought  him  to  the  rim  of  another  canyon 
which  blocked  his  way.  The  canyon  extended  as  far  as  he  could 
see  in  either  direction,  so  he  sought  and  found  a  point  where  he 
could  descend  into  it,  thinking  to  clamber  up  on  the  other  side 
and  pursue  his  way  toward  the  mountain. 

Night  came  on  and  he  was  obliged  to  wait  for  morning  to  prose- 
cute his  search  for  a  place  of  exit.  When  daylight  came  he  wan- 
dered up  and  down  the  canyon  vainly  seeking  a  point  which  he 
could  scale.  He  was  finally  obliged  to  retrace  his  steps  and  climb 
out  on  the  side  he  had  entered.  He  then  followed  down  the  rim 
of  the  canyon,  hoping  to  find  a  trail  which  would  lead  him  to  some 
habitation.  About  this  time  his  light  shoes  gave  out  and  he  was 
forced  to  discard  them.  The  way  was  rough  and  the  stones  cut  his 
feet  till  they  bled  freely  and  he  found  it  impossible  to  proceed  in 
that  manner.  He  then  removed  his  undershirt,  cut  it  in  two 
pieces  and  bound  them  about  his  feet.  He  found  it  difficult  to 
keep  these  makeshifts  in  place  and  his  progress  was  exceedingly 
slow.  The  torture  from  hunger  and  thirst  was  becoming  fearful, 
and  to  cap  the  climax  of  his  misfortunes  he  lost  his  knife,  the  only 
implement  he  possessed. 

That  night  he  stretched  himself  out  upon  the  plain  to  obtain 
such  rest  as  he  could  and  to  await  the  light  of  another  morning. 
Before  sleep  came  to  him  a  wild  turkey  came  strutting  near  and 
passed  within  a  dozen  feet  of  him.  This  display  of  live  meat  was 
very  tantalizing  to  the  famishing  man,  but  he  was  powerless  to 
kill  or  capture  the  bird. 

The  fourth  day  of  his  wanderings  he  came  to  a  deserted  ranch- 


The  Artist  of  the  Colorado  Desert  xliii 

house  near  which  was  a  water-hole  where  he  quenched  his  tor- 
menting thirst.  Then  he  approached  the  house  and  looked  in  at 
the  open  door.  Half  a  dozen  wild  doves  had  taken  refuge  therein. 
Startled  at  the  appearance  of  a  human  being  they  darted  out, 
almost  in  his  face.  Eytel  leaped  in  and  closed  the  door  in  time 
to  make  one  prisoner.  After  a  lively  chase  he  succeeded  in 
cornering  the  bird  and  capturing  it.  It  was  but  the  work  of  a 
moment  to  wring  its  neck  and  strip  it  of  its  feathers,  and  he  then 
proceeded  to  devour  it  raw.  He  declares  it  the  best  meal  he 
ever  ate. 

While  he  was  yet  at  this  repast  he  heard  the  clatter  of  hoofs, 
and  hurrying  to  the  door  he  beheld  one  of  the  cowboys  from  the 
ranch  he  was  seeking.  He  hailed  him  and  learned  that  the  ranch 
was  but  a  few  miles  distant.  The  cowboy  gave  him  his  horse 
to  return  with,  and  in  a  short  time  he  was  safely  housed  among  his 
friends.  It  took  him  two  weeks  to  recover  from  the  effects  of 
his  experience. 

On  another  occasion  he  was  taken  for  a  noted  desperado  and 
horse  thief  and  came  near  being  hanged.  He  had  been  sketching 
in  the  mountains  and  was  overtaken  by  night.  He  was  just 
approaching  a  ranch-house  in  the  valley  and  was  about  to  enter 
the  gateway  and  ask  for  food  and  lodging  when  a  pack  of  dogs 
rushed  out  and  with  loud  barking  surrounded  him.  The  dogs 
were  followed  by  several  men  and  boys,  all  armed,  and  he  was 
commanded  to  "throw  up  his  hands!"  which  he  promptly  did. 
A  light  was  brought  and  he  was  closely  questioned  as  to  his  busi- 
ness in  that  locality  at  that  time  of  night.  His  explanations  were 
received  with  scorn.  In  vain  he  showed  his  sketches.  They 
were  mere  attempts  to  "throw  dust  into  the  eyes  of  the  fools  who 
could  be  thus  easily  deceived."  Then  one  of  the  men  recognized 
him  as  a  noted  desperado,  and  still  another  was  sure  that  the 
horse  he  was  riding  belonged  to  a  neighboring  rancher.  This 
was  enough.  To  be  a  horse  thief  on  the  desert  is  to  court  certain 
death.  A  vigilance  court  was  organized  and  a  speedy  trial  held. 
Eytel's   pleas  were  in  vain.     He  was  condemned  to  death.     Then 


xliv  The  Artist  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

some  one  suggested  that  the  owner  of  the  horse,  as  a  matter  of 
courtesy,  should  be  invited  to  the  hanging,  and  the  execution  was 
stayed  while  a  messenger  went  for  him.  In  due  time  he  arrived, 
bringing  with  him  another  half-dozen  men  and  boys  to  assist  in 
the  operations,  but  when  everything  was  ready,  and  the  culprit 
was  brought  forth,  the  astonished  rancher  exclaimed,  "Why,  this 
is  not  the  man!"  When  the  supposedly  stolen  horse  was  brought 
he  likewise  disclaimed  all  knowledge  of  it.  This  put  a  stop  to  the 
execution  for  that  night.  The  "court"  thought  it  would  better 
suspend  sentence  until  morning.  Fortunately  the  sheriff  of  the 
county  arrived  the  next  day  hot  on  the  trail  of  the  noted  horse  thief. 
In  a  moment  he  quenched  all  doubt  as  to  Eytel  being  the  man  he 
wanted  by  calling  the  wiseacres  "a  set  of  very  blank  fools."  The 
prisoner  was  therefore  released  with  many  and  abject  apologies 
and  allowed  to  resume  his  rudely  interrupted  journey. 

In  regard  to  Mr.  Eytel's  work,  it  should  be  said  that  he  is  almost 
entirely  self-taught.  As  such  his  work  must  be  judged.  The 
pictures  of  this  book  are  his  first  pretentious  attempt.  I  think 
they  reveal  genius  as  surely  as  they  give  proof  that  he  has  a  per- 
sistence in  the  face  of  obstacles  that  would  daunt  most  men.  He 
knows  the  Colorado  Desert  as  no  other  man  knows  it,  and  his 
sketches  are  faithful  portrayals  of  objects  he  has  seen  and  lived 
with.  I  could  tell  many  stories  of  his  persistence  in  obtaining  the 
knowledge  he  sought,  of  days  and  nights  of  hungry,  thirsty,  weary 
following  of  trails  to  see  a  rare  sight,  or  learn  a  new  thing. 

While  Mr.  Eytel  (with  the  modesty  that  is  one  of  the  flowers 
pf  his  character)  would  disclaim  any  right  to  be  regarded  as  other 
than  the  artist  of  the  book,  I  cannot  do  him  the  injustice  to  allow 
its  readers  to  assume  that  I  am  the  sole  author  of  its  literary  con- 
tents. While  I  have  done  the  actual  writing,  many  pages  of  that 
which  is  written  belong  to  Mr.  Eytel,  and  I  wish  him  fully  to  share 
in  any  praise  which  that  portion  of  the  book  receives  just  as  much 
as  I  wish  him  to  be  the  sole  recipient  of  all  the  praise  for  his 
beautiful  sketches. 


The  Wonders 

of  the 

Colorado  Desert 


CHAPTER   I 

A   General   View    of   the    Desert 

EFORE  entering  upon  a  detailed  description  of  the 
desert  in  its  various  aspects  it  is  well  to  obtain  a 
broad  and  cursory  survey  of  its  general  appearance. 
It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  Colorado  Desert 
is  a  flat,  level  plain  of  barren  sand.  It  is  more  di- 
versified in  feature  than  many  of  the  Middle  States. 
Approached  from  its  northwestern  side  over  the 
San  Gorgonio  Pass  the  desert  presents  a  far  more 
barren,  desolate,  and  forsaken  appearance  than  when  the  traveler 
has  been  prepared  by  crossing  the  long  sandv  stretches  of  \\  est- 
ern  Texas  and  Arizona.  The  contrasts  are  very  marked  between 
the  alkali  flats,  sand  areas,  and  sand  mountains,  colorless  desert 
verdure,  volcanic  peaks,  unclothed  foot-hills,  and  mountains  that 
seem  to  be  absolutely  barren,  and  the  orange  and  lemon  groves, 
peach  and  apricot  orchards,  stock  ranches,  alfalfa  farms,  and 
bright,  cultivated,  flower-bedecked  areas  of  Southern  California. 

The  ascent  from  Colton  is  easy  and  gradual  for  about  thirty 
miles  until  the  summit  is  reached.  Here  let  Clarence  King  tell 
us  what  is  to  be  seen: 

"There  are  but  few  points  in  America  where  such  extremes  of 
physical  condition  meet.     W  hat  contrasts,  what  opposing  senti- 

VOL.  I.  —  1  1 


2  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

merits,  the  two  views  awakened!  Spread  out  below  us  lay  the 
desert,  stark  and  glaring,  its  rigid  hill  chains  lying  in  disordered 
grouping,  in  attitudes  of  the  dead.  The  bare  hills  are  cut  out  with 
sharp  gorges,  and  over  their  stone  skeletons  scanty  earth  clings 
in  folds,  like  shrunken  flesh;  they  are  emaciated  corpses  of  once 
noble  ranges  now  lifeless,  outstretched  as  in  a  long  sleep.  Ghastly 
colors  define  them  from  the  ashen  plain  in  which  their  feet  are 
buried.  Far  in  the  south  were  a  procession  of  whirlwind  columns 
slowly  moving  across  the  desert  in  spectral  dimness.  A  white 
light  beat  down,  dispelling  the  last  trace  of  shadow,  and  above 
hung  the  shield  of  hard,  pitiless  sky. 

"Sinking  to  the  west  from  our  feet  the  gentle  golden-green  glacis 
sloped  away,  flanked  by  rolling  hills  covered  with  a  fresh, 
vernal  carpet  of  grass,  and  relieved  by  scattered  groves  of  dark 


Banning 
Mounts  San  Jacinto  on  the  right  and  San  Gorgonio  on  the  left 


oak  trees.  Upon  the  distant  valley  were  checkered  fields  of  grass 
and  grain  just  tinged  with  the  first  ripening  yellow.  The  bound- 
ing coast  ranges  lay  in  the  cool  shadow  of  a  bank  of  mist  which 
drifted  in  from  the  Pacific,  covering  their  heights.  Flocks  of 
bright  clouds  floated  across  the  sky,  whose  blue  was  palpitating 
with  light,  and  seemed  to  rise  with  infinite  perspective.  Tran- 
quillity, abundance,  the  slow,  beautiful  unfolding  of  plant  life, 
dark,  shadowed  spots  to  rest  our  tired  eyes  upon,  the  shade  of 
giant  oaks  to  lie  down  under  while  listening  to  brooks,  contralto 
larks,  and  the  soft,  distant  lowing  of  cattle." 

Thus  wrote  the  poetic  geologist  after  journeying  over  the  desert. 

Let  us  now  begin  our  journey,  but  in  the  opposite  direction  from 
that  which  he  took.  Flanking  the  pass  along  its  northern  side 
stands  the  peak  of  San  Bernardino  with  its  glorious  companion, 
San  Gorgonio,  their  granite  framework   crowded   up   above  the 


A  General  View  of  the  Desert 


beds  of  more  recent  rock  about  their  bases,  bearing  aloft  tattered 
fragments  of  pine  forest,  the  summits  piercing  through  a  marbling 
of  perpetual  snow,  up  to  a  height  of  over  eleven  thousand  feet. 
Fronting  them  on  the  opposite  wall  rises  their  compeer,  San 
Jacinto,  a  dark  crag  of  granite,  with  upthrusts  of  lava,  whose  flanks 
are  cracked,  riven,  and  waterworn  into  innumerable  ravines,  each 
catching  a  share  of  the  drainage  from  the  snow-cap  in  springtime, 
but  in  summer  and  autumn  dry  and  thirsty  looking. 

Both  these  mountains  have  extensions  which  trend  from  the 
northwest  to  southeast,  and  which  form  the  two  elongated  sides 

of  the  irregularly 
HI  elliptical  "bowl" 

of  the   depressed 


M#^ 


Entrance  to  Tauquitch,  or  West  Canyon 

portion  of  the  desert.  The  northwestern  end  of  the  ellipse  is  the 
San  Gorgonio  Pass.  The  southeastern  end  has  no  very  elevated 
edge,  though  there  is  a  slight  ridge  of  sand  here  and  there  which 
gives  the  appearance  of  completing  the  ellipse. 

Mount  San  Jacinto  begins  a  grand  range  of  mountains  that 
edges  the  desert  down  to  the  boundary  line  between  the  United 
States  and  Mexico  and  then  forms  the  backbone  of  the  peninsula 
of  Lower  California,  while  the  Sierra  San  Bernardino  continues 
in  broken-up  masses  to  within  twenty  or  thirty  miles  west  of  the 
Colorado  River  near  Yuma. 

Geologists  tell  us  there  is  a  distinct  difference  between  the  rocks 


4  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

on  each  side  of  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  thus  clearly  suggesting 
that  they  are  not  of  similar  origin  or  age  and  are,  consequently, 
of  different  systems.  The  pass,  therefore,  is  not  a  low  ridge  in 
a  homogeneous  mountain  chain,  but  the  point  of  contact  between 
two  different  ranges. 

The  slope  on  the  eastern  side  into  the  desert  is  gradual  and 
covered  with  rocky  detritus  washed  down  from  the  mountains. 
For  over  twenty  miles  the  pass  is  so  filled  with  boulders,  pebbles, 
and  gravel  that  it  might  almost  be  taken  for  the  course  of  a  vast 
waterspout.  At  about  Whitewater  Station,  on  the  line  of  the 
Southern  Pacific,  the  desert  seems  to  begin  in  earnest,  though 
there  are  still  many  shrubs  and  plants,  and  after  a  heavy  rain  the 
ground  is  fairly  bespangled  with  beautiful  flowers. 

Standing  here,  too,  one  first  becomes  familiar  with  that  breeze 
of  the  desert  that  comes  as  out  of  the  very  Dawn,  pure,  undefiled, 
and  with  the  power  of  God  in  it,  and  one  drinks  in  its  celestial 
purity  with  eagerness  and  gratitude. 

On  the  left  the  peaks  of  the  San  Bernardino  range  seem  to 
retire  farther  away  from  us  in  solemn  majesty,  snow-clad,  serene 
and  sublime,  while  the  lower  hills  that  help  make  the  pass  are 
broad  and  wide,  reaching  to  the  other  side  with  a  gentle  and 
beautiful  slope. 

On  the  right,  the  massive  bulk  of  San  Jacinto  seems  to  have  been 
thrust  up  right  from  the  floor  of  the  desert  and  arrested  the  quiet 
slope  of  the  opposite  range.  Great  spurs  are  thrust  out  from 
the  base  of  the  mountain,  as  if  the  intention  had  been  to  make 
arresting  barriers  to  our  farther  progress,  but  they  do  not  project 
far  enough,  so  our  train  passes  them  and  the  far  stretch  of  the 
desert  ahead  is  exposed  to  our  view. 

It  is  a  sandy  waste,  dotted  everywhere  with  a  variety  of  un- 
familiar shrubs  and  plants,  yet  we  find  its  features  are  strange 
and  diversified  in  spite  of  its  desert  character.  The  two  great 
ranges  of  mountains  are  seamed  with  canyons  and  ravines,  and 
the  irregularities  of  their  surfaces  cast  purple  shadows,  giving 
to  the  masses  a  peculiar  dimpled  appearance  which  is  exceed- 
ingly vivid.  As  we  progress  farther  down  the  slope  we  find  that 
for  a  distance  of  possibly  fifteen  miles,  namely,  from  Indio  to 
Mecca,  the  whole  region  is  a  beautiful  oasis,  owing  to  the  fact 


A  General  View  of  the  Desert  5 

that  artesian  wells  in  large  numbers  have  been  bored,  and  the 
soil  is  of  such  fertile  character  as  to  grow  most  productively 
when  under  irrigation.  This  is  the  world-famed  Coachella 
Valley,  yet  the  name  "Coachella  Valley"  is  a  misnomer.  It  was 
originally  Conchilla  Valley,  and  is  so  named  on  the  maps  of  the 
United  States  Geological  Survey.  Conchilla  means  "little  shells," 
and  the  name  was  given  in  early  days  from  the  fact  that  the 
whole  valley  of  the  Salton  from  the  Mexican  line  as  far  north  as 
Indio  is  covered  with  tiny  fresh-water  shells.  Strangers,  unfa- 
miliar with  the  name  and  unacquainted  with  the  Spanish  tongue, 
mispronounced  and  misspelled  the  name,  and,  as  they  were  the 
earliest  white  settlers,  their  methods  soon  established  the  custom, 
which  it  is  not  likely  any  one  will  now  try  to  disturb. 


Near  the 

mouth  of  Chino  Canyon 


Below  Mecca  the  whole  scene  changes  and  the  eye  is  fascinated 
and  charmed  with  the  presence  of  a  vast  inland  sea.  Can  this 
really  be  a  body  of  water  or  is  it  only  a  fiction  of  a  disordered  brain  ? 
We  have  long  seen  that  we  have  been  below  sea-level,  and  the 
levels  of  the  old  beaches  are  clearly  visible  at  more  or  less  irregular 
intervals  on  each  side  of  the  valley. 

We  are  now  in  the  region  known  as  the  Salton  Sink,  and  the 
body  of  water  before  us  is  the  Salton  Sea,  the  mysterious  inland 
ocean  which  has  given  rise  to  so  much  foolish  and  imaginative 
writing  by  those  who  have  never  taken  the  trouble  to  investigate 
its  origin. 

At  the  present  time  of  writing  (June,  1906),  this  inland  sea  is 
over  forty  miles  long  and  from  five  to  twenty  miles  broad.     At 


6 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


its  southern  end  are  three  or  four  small  islands, 
which  used  to  stand  as  isolated   rocky  buttes 
on  the  sandy  face  of    the   desert.       Flowing 
into  this  sea  in  a  somewhat  irregular  and 
winding  fashion,  but  with  a  general  north- 
ward flow,  are  two  rivers, —  the  Alamo 
and  the  New.     These  rivers  both  cross 
a  section  of  the  desert  known  as  the 
Imperial  Valley,  which,  in  the  short 
space  of  four  years,  has  been  con- 
verted from  uninhabitable  desert 
to  a  fertile  and  well- 
populated 
country 


The  left  wall  at  entrance  to  Tauquitch  Canyon 


A  General  View  of  the  Desert  7 

by  means  of  irrigation.  All  around  this  valley,  as  well  as  the 
upper  portion  of  the  desert,  aligning  and  above  the  Salton  Sea, 
the  limits  of  the  ancient  beach  line  are  to  be  seen.  In  some  places 
this  beach  is  composed  of  immense  sand-dunes  and  ridges,  and 
in  a  few  cases  these  sand  masses  are  large  and  imposing  enough 
to  be  entitled  mountains. 

It  is  commonly  believed  that  the  valley  region  I  have  here 
described,  from  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass  to  the  Mexican  line, 
bounded  by  the  San  Bernardino  and  San  Jacinto  ranges,  com- 
prises the  whole  of  the  Colorado  Desert.  This  is  a  mistake.  The 
desert  conditions  exist  far  beyond  the  confines  of  this  limited  area. 
The  mountains  of  the  San  Bernardino  range,  though  they  seem 
to  present  insurmountable  barriers,  in  reality  have  a  number  ot 
passes,  through  and  over  which  one  may  enter  into  the  regions 
beyond.  And  what  of  these  ?  They  comprise  a  succession  of 
mountains  and  valleys  of  all  sizes,  contours  and  forms.  The 
valleys  separate  these  mountains  in  most  irregular  and  haphazard 
fashion.  Some  are  narrow,  some  are  broad  and  all  are  of  different 
lengths,  yet  all  alike  are  barren  and  desolate  save  when  the  winter 
rains  bring  forth  marvelous  carpets  of  flowers.  Here,  away  from 
the  vivifying  water,  everything  is  gaunt,  harsh,  and  desolate. 
There  are  few  signs  of  life.  Everything  is  silent  and  still.  During 
nine  months  of  the  year,  save  for  the  solitary  eagle  and  the  almost 
forgotten  condor,  which  float  noiselessly  in  the  serene  blue  abyss 
above,  there  is  never  a  sign  of  life,  except  when  the  weary  pros- 
pector and  his  patient  burro  take  up  their  plodding  march  Trom 
one  water-hole  to  another. 

On  the  opposite  side  the  San  Jacinto  Mountains  are  not  quite 
so  barren  and  sterile  as  those  of  San  Bernardino,  yet  they  are 
desert  enough,  as  the  chapters  devoted  to  our  trips  over  them  will 
show. 

The  appearance  of  the  desert  from  the  divide  on  the  old  stage 
road  running  from  Yuma  through  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass  is  thus 
graphically  described  by  Clarence  King.  He  was  looking  up 
the  desert  to  the  northwest  from  a  point  a  little  south  of  Imperial 
Junction: 

"We  were  on  the  margin  of  a  great  basin  whose  gently  shelving 
rim  sank  from  our  feet  to  a  perfectly  level  plain,  which  stretched 


8 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


southward  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  bounded  by  a  dim  level 
horizon,  like  the  sea,  but  walled  in  to  the  west,  at  a  distance  of 
about  forty  miles,  by  the  high,  frowning  wall  of  the  Sierras.  This 
plain  was  a  level  floor,  as  white  as  marble,  and  into  it  the  rocky 
spurs  from  our  own  mountain  range  descended  like  promontories 
into  the  sea.  Wide,  deeply  indented  white  bays  wound  in  and 
out  among  the  foot-hills,  and,  traced  upon  the  barren  slopes  of 
this  rocky  coast,  was  marked,  at  a  considerable  elevation  above 
the  plain,  the  shore-line  of  an  ancient  sea,  —  a  white 
stain  defining  its  former  margin  as  clearly  as  if  the 
water  had  but  just  receded.  On 
the  dim,  distant 

'O- 

/ 


The  ancient  beach  line 
near  Torres 


base  of  the  Sierras  the  same  primeval  beach  could  be  seen.  This 
water-mark,  the  level,  white  valley  and  the  utter  absence  upon  its 
surface  of  any  vegetation,  gave  a  strange  and  weird  aspect  to  the 
country  as  if  a  vast  tide  had  just  ebbed  and  the  brilliant,  scorch- 
ing sun  had  hurriedly  dried  up  its  last  traces  of  moisture." 

Another  remarkable  desert  view  may  be  had  from  the  summit 
of  Pilot  Knob.  To  the  left  and  flowing  almost  due  west  the  Colo- 
rado River  leads  the  eye  along  to  the  sand-hills  which  begin  a  little 
to  the  south  and  then  sweep  far  away  to  the  north.  To  the  west 
of  the  sand-hills  lies  the  floor  of  the  desert,  including  the  fertile 


A  General  View  of  the  Desert  9 

region  of  the  Imperial  Valley;  to  the  south  lies  the  great  alluvial 
deposit  brought  down  by  the  Colorado  during  past  centuries 
with,  in  the  far  distance,  the  portion  of  it  subject  to  inundation, 
where  dense  jungles  and  forests  of  deepest  green  relieve  the  eye. 
Beyond  to  the  far  west  are  the  Cocopah  and  San  Jacinto  ranges 
fading  away  in  their  bath  of  shimmering  haze  and  suggesting 
that  here,  at  last,  the  end  has  come,  for  beyond  them  is  the  home 
of  the  setting  sun. 

An  equally  vivid  picture  by  another  writer,  J.  Ross  Browne, 
from  the  opposite,  or  southwestern,  angle  of  the  desert,  and  look- 
ing across  almost  due  east,  is  well  worth  quoting: 

"I  scarcely  remember  to  have  seen  a  wilder  country  than  the 
first  eight  miles  beyond  Carrizo.  Barren  hills  of  gravel  and  sand- 
stone flung  up  at  random  out  of  the  earth,  strange  jagged  moun- 
tain peaks  in  the  distance;  yellow  banks  serrated  by  floods;  sea- 
shells  glittering  in  the  wavy  sand  fields  that  lie  between;  these 
overhung  by  a  rich  glowing  atmosphere,  with  glimpses  of  Indian 
smokes  far  off  in  the  horizon,  inspired  us  with  a  vague  feeling  of 
the  wonders  and  characteristic  features  of  the  desert  region  through 
which  we  were  about  to  pass.  I  could  not  but  think  of  the  brave 
old  Spaniards  and  their  heroic  explorations  across  the  Colorado. 
Here  was  a  glowing  and  mvstic  land  of  sunshine  and  burning 
sands  where  human  enterprise  had  in  centuries  past  battled  with 
hunger  and  thirst  and  savage  races,  where  the  silence  of  utter 
desolation  now  reigned  supreme.  There  was  a  peculiar  charm 
to  me  in  the  rich  atmospheric  tints  that  hung  over  the  strange 
land  and  the  boundless  wastes  that  lav  outspread  before  us;  and 
I  drank  in  with  an  almost  childish  delight  the  delicate  and  exquisite 
odors  that  filled  the  air,  and  thought  of  mv  earlv  wanderings, 
years  long  past,  amid  the  deserts  and  palms  of  Araby  the  Blest. 

"As  we  advanced  into  the  desert  each  shifting  scene  developed 
its  peculiar  beauties.  The  face  of  the  countrv  for  the  most  part 
is  well  covered  with  mesquite  trees,  sage-bushes,  greasewood, 
weeds  and  cactus.  Mountains  are  in  sight  all  the  way  across 
and  the  old  stage-houses  of  the  Overland  Mail  Company  still 
stand  by  the  watering  places.  Many  indications  of  the  dread- 
ful sufferings  of  emigrant  parties  and  drovers  still  mark  the  road; 
the  wrecks  of  wagons  half  covered  in  the  drifting  sands,  skeletons 


io  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

of  horses  and  mules  and  the  skulls  and  bones  of  many  a  herd  of 
cattle  that  perished  by  thirst  on  the  way  or  fell  victims  to  the 
terrible  sand-storms  that  sweep  the  desert.  Only  in  a  few  instances, 
when  we  struck  out  upon  the  arid  sand  belts  that  lie  between  the 
alluvial  beds  of  earth,  did  we  encounter  anything  resembling  the 
deserts  of  Arabia,  and  then  only  for  ten  or  twelve  miles  at  a  time. 

"The  climate  in  winter  is  indescribably  delightful;  in  summer 
the  heat  is  excessive  and  travelers  and  animals  suffer  much  on 
the  journey.  It  was  a  perfect  luxury  to  breathe  such  pure,  soft 
air  as  we  enjoyed  in  the  middle  of  December  when  our  Atlantic 
friends  were  freezing  amid  the  ice  and  snow-banks  of  that  wretched 
part  of  the  world. 

"The  entire  distance  from  Carrizo  across  the  desert  to  Fort 
Yuma  is  one  hundred  and  sixteen  miles.  Four  stations  where 
water  can  be  had  intervene  on  the  road, —  Indian  Wells,  Alamo 
Mocho,  Gardners  and  Cookes  Wells.  At  all  those  points  the 
water  is  tolerably  good  and  there  are  other  points  where  brackish 
water  can  be  had  by  digging  a  few  feet. 

"About  fifteen  miles  beyond  Cookes  Wells  after  coursing  along 
the  belt  of  the  great  sand  desert  on  the  left,  we  struck  into  the 
Colorado  bottom.  Indications  of  our  approach  to  water  were 
everywhere  perceptible.  Thickets  of  arrow-weed  lined  the  way 
and  forests  of  cottonwood  loomed  up  ahead  over  which  geese  and 
cranes  uttered  their  wild  notes.  Soon  we  passed  some  deserted 
rancherias  and  in  a  little  while  more  our  eyes  were  rejoiced  with 
a  refreshing  view  of  the  great  Colorado  of  the  West  as  it  swept 
like  a  mighty  serpent  over  the  desert." 

On  the  western  slopes,  and  also  on  the  northeastern  edge  of 
the  desert,  where  the  mountains  are  high  and  tree-clad,  the  ravines 
and  canyons,  in  their  higher  reaches,  are  enlivened  with  small 
streams  and  occasional  waterfalls.  But  as  they  approach  the 
desert  they  flow  more  quietly,  then  sluggishly,  as  if  fearful  of  the 
fate  that  surely  awaits  them.  For,  as  soon  as  the  devouring  sands 
are  reached,  they  are  swallowed  up,  never  to  appear  again,  except 
perhaps  in  the  alkali  and  brackish  springs  farther  down  which 
mock  and  tantalize  thirsty  men  and  animals.  The  Whitewater, 
in  winter,  often  flows  with  enough  volume  and  force  to  wash  away 
roads  and  barriers  erected  to  direct  its  course,  and  empties  into 


A  General  View  of  the  Desert  11 

the  Salton  Sea.  The  overflow  from  the  artesian  wells  at  Mecca 
also  unites  to  form  a  small  stream  which  adds  its  tiny  volume  to 
the  desert  sea. 

To  the  west  of  Indio  and  the  oasis  of  the  Coachella  Valley 
there  is  natural  verdure  enough  to  attract  attention,  and  this  I 
have  termed  "Mesquite  Land,"  for  this  interesting  desert  tree 
abounds  there. 

From  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass  downward,  and  everywhere  on 
the  desert  where  the  winds  blow,  the  plants  and  shrubs  present 
themselves  in  a  new  aspect  to  the  stranger  who  sees  the  desert 
for  the  first  time.  On  the  windward  side  the  sand  is  seen  to  be 
piled  up  in  a  peculiar  conical  ridge,  the  base  of  the  cone  being 
at  the  root  of  the  plant  or  shrub.  As  the  wind  blows  steadily 
and  fiercely  down  the  pass  it  carries  away  the  sand  except  where 


The  fierce  winds  tear  the  sand  away  from  the  roots 

the  particles  pile  up  around  the  farther  side  of  the  roots.  This, 
better  than  anything  else,  tells  the  story  of  strong  winds  rushing 
in  to  replace  the  heated  air  which  ascends  from  the  scorched  face 
of  the  desert  within.  In  many  places  the  mesquite  and  other 
trees  are  completely  buried  in  the  sand,  except  where  the  tips  of 
the  branches  protrude.  The  effect  of  this  is  most  peculiar,  and 
yet  beautiful  and  interesting. 

In  some  of  the  canyons,  especially  near  Palm  Springs,  and  east 
and  north  of  Indio,  and  even  on  the  open  desert,  are  groves  of 
palms,  indigenous  to  this  region.  In  the  presence  of  these  ancient 
desert  monarchs  it  is  easy  to  forget  the  activity  of  American  life, 
and  all  association  with  the  occidental  world,  and  imagine  one- 
self in  the  heart  of  the  Sahara. 

Two  solitary  and  detached  mountains  in  the  south  attract  our 


,s  -i  /*:' 


12 


A  General  View  of  the  Desert  13 

attention.  These  are  Signal  Mountain,  over  the  Mexican  line, 
and  Pilot  Knob,  both  well-known  landmarks  to  Indians  and 
whites,  while  Castle  Dome  and  Picacho  or  Chimney  Peak  —  the 
latter  a  sharp  peak  near  the  Colorado  River  a  few  miles  above 
Yuma  —  are  equally  well-known  and  striking  landmarks,  though 
not  so  large  as  the  other  two. 

Near  the  southeastern  shore  of  the  Salton  Sea  are  four  volcanic 
buttes  (now  made  into  islands),  all  of  which  are  covered  with 
lava  float  or  pumice-stone.  Tons  of  this  material  might  be 
gained  from  these  buttes,  one  of  which  is  said  to  be  the  eminence 
on  which  the  fabled  Pegleg  Smith  mine  is  located.  The  island 
butte  nearest  to  the  railway  is  now  the  Pelican  Island  of  the  Salton 
Sea,  for  thousands  of  pelicans  have  made  it  their  nesting  and  breed- 
ing place  since  the  rising  of  the  Salton. 

While  there  is  a  large  amount  of  sand  on  the  desert,  it  does  not, 
as  is  so  generally  conceived,  cover  the  ground  with  particles  so  that 
little  else  is  to  be  seen.  There  are  scores  of  miles  where  there 
is  no  sand.  In  several  regions  it  is  piled  up  by  the  wind  into 
hills  of  considerable  extent  and  magnitude.  The  principal  sand 
masses  are  found  in  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  east  of  the  railway 
track  below  Palm  Springs,  west  and  north  of  Indio,  in  various 
parts  of  the  old  beach  line  east  of  Salton,  Frink,  and  Volcano, 
along  the  line  of  the  railway  from  about  thirteen  miles  east  of 
Imperial  Junction  to  Pilot  Knob,  and  on  the  line  of  the  old  emi- 
grant road  from  Yuma  to  San  Diego  between  Salt  Creek  and  Car- 
rizo  Creek.  This  last-named  mass  is  so  important  that  of  late 
years  it  has  been  known  as  Superstition  Mountain.  While  it 
appears  to  be  composed  entirely  of  sand,  there  is  a  rocky  mass 
below,  and  over  this  the  sand  plays,  constantly  shifting  to  and  fro 
in  the  desert  winds,  and  because  of  this  instability  the  Indians  of 
the  region  speak  ill  of  it,  hence  its  name.  The  great  mass  which 
makes  a  divide  between  the  Salton  Basin  and  the  valley  of  the 
Colorado  north  of  Yuma  is  the  most  extensive  of  all  the  sand 
deposits  of  the  desert.  This  is  the  true  Sahara  of  sand.  On 
coming  east  from  Yuma  the  traveler  sees  at  Pilot  Knob  a  line  of 
sand-hills  to  the  left,  which  continues  for  upward  of  thirty  miles. 
At  the  station  of  Ruthven  the  smaller  hills  are  close  at  hand, 
while  a  mile  or  so  away  are  the  larger  hills.     They  are  of  every 


A  General  View  of  the  Desert  15 

moving  grains.  They  generally  rise  to  the  slope,  and  when  they 
reach  the  highest  point  fall  down  the  steep  bank  to  leeward. 
Several  times  on  sleeping  out  among  these  hills  I  have  had  good 
opportunity  to  watch  these  phenomena.  Lying  down  long 
before  sunset  I  could  see  the  constant  movement  of  the  grains, 
as  if  a  slight  moving  mist  of  peculiar  quality  hung  over  the  sand- 
hills, and,  as  I  always  stretched  out  my  blankets  on  the  lee  side  of 
the  hill,  I  found  a  fair  accumulation  of  sand  deposited  by  the 
wind  around  and  in  my  blankets  before  morning. 

These  dunes,  from  the  security  of  a  Pullman  car  or  even  from 
the  safety  of  a  wagon  on  a  near-by  road,  seem  very  harmless  objects, 
but  let  one  unused  to  the  desert  beware  how  he  risks  his  life  in 
their  dread  wilderness.  Once  well  in  the  heart  of  them  one 
becomes  utterly  confused,  for  the  wind  completely  destroys  all 
tracks  in  a  few  minutes  and  it  is  impossible  to  retrace  one's  steps. 
While  dissimilar  when  seen  from  a  place  of  safety  they  appear  all 
alike  when  one  is  in  them.  The  heat  is  stifling,  for  the  sands 
reflect  the  glare  and  heat,  and  one  is  almost  blinded,  and  though 
there  is  wind  it  seldom  reaches  the  secret  recesses  and  little  shut- 
in  valleys  of  the  dunes.  It  floats  the  sand  over  and  upon  you, 
and  this  heated  sand  irritates  nostrils  and  mouth  until  one  opens 
his  mouth  and  pants  like  a  dog,  only  to  get  more  air  so  sand-laden 
that  he  cannot  bear  it.  Many  a  poor  wretch  has  been  lost  to 
the  world  forever  in  the  treacherous  secrecy  of  these  sand-hills. 
Unthinkingly  he  has  gone  to  his  death, —  been  overpowered  by 
the  heat  and  thirst,  and  unable  to  find  his  way  out,  has  fallen, 
to  be  covered  almost  immediately  by  the  drifting  sand  and  thus 
suffocated  while  unconscious. 

The  only  safe  plan  I  know  of  when  thus  caught  is  to  take  off 
one's  coat  and  throw  it  over  the  head.  Resolutely  refuse  to 
breathe  through  the  mouth  and  by  constant  clearing  of  the  nostrils 
compel  inhalation  by  that  channel.  Sit  down  and  make  no 
attempt  to  escape  during  the  heat  of  the  day.  If  the  sand  begins 
to  cover  you,  rise,  and  as  it  falls  under  you  make  it  your  new  couch, 
and  keep  doing  this  so  long  as  it  is  necessary.  Then,  when  night 
falls,  guide  yourself  back  to  safety  by  the  stars.  And  one  who 
cannot  travel  by  the  stars,  and  does  not  know  the  general  direction 
of  places  in  the  desert,  ought  never  to  travel  alone  on  it.     He 


16  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

does  it  constantly  at  the  peril  of  his  life,  as  half  a  thousand,  at 
least,  I  doubt  not,  in  the  past  fifty  years  have  found  out. 

It  is  interesting  here  to  note  that  in  the  sand-hills  north  and 
west  of  Indio,  Mr.  Fred  Johnson  is  contemplating  the  planting 
of  a  sunken  garden  of  date-palms  similar  to  those  found  in  the 
oases  of  the  African  Sahara.  Part  of  his  land  reaches  into  these 
hills,  and  as  he  has  an  abundance  of  water  he  purposes  to  see  if 
these  apparently  useless  masses  cannot  be  utilized  for  a  good  and 
profitable  purpose. 

Save  for  the  Salton  Sea,  the  Colorado,  Alamo,  and  New  Rivers, 
the  flowing  artesian  wells  in  the  Coachella  Valley,  and  the  streams 
like  the  Whitewater,  Carrizo,  and  Salt,  which  run  only  in  the  rainy 
season  or  when  the  snows  melt,  there  is  no  water  to  be  seen  on 
the  desert.     Here  and  there  are  the  old  Indian  wells,  dug  deep  in 
the  ground,  with  one  side  sloped  down  to  the  very  edge 
of  the  water  to  allow  of  easy  access  for  man  and  beast, 
and  all   along  the  line  are  the  railway  water-tanks. 
Here  and  there  are  tiny  springs,  the  water  of  which 
is  carefully  conserved,  and  along  the  roads  to  the  north 
and  east  over  the  mountains  and  in  the  canyons  occa- 
sional seepages,  water-tanks  in  the  rocks  and   bored 
wells  are  to  be  found.     But  in  general  appearance  it 
pcar         is  a  waterless  expanse,  and  one  does  not  know  how 
much   he  loves  the   sight  of  flowing  water,  whether 
in  large  or  small  bodies,  until  he  finds  himself  upon  the  desert. 

In  two  or  three  places  on  the  desert,  but  especially  at  the  south- 
ern end,  there  are  several  large  areas  covered  with  small  pebbles 
of  various  hard  rocks,  principally  of  volcanic  origin,  including 
different-colored  porphyries,  agates,  and  carnelians.  These  are 
beautifully  rounded  and  polished,  showing  they  have  been  subjected 
not  only  to  transportation  for  long  distances,  which  has  caused 
marked  attrition,  but  also  to  the  smoothing  influences  of  wind- 
driven  sand.  The  wind  has  carried  away  all  the  sand  particles 
from  the  interstices  and  the  pebbles  are  left,  packed  together 
so  closely  and  evenly,  owing  to  their  uniformity  in  size,  that  they 
seem  as  if  pressed  into  a  yielding  surface  by  a  heavy  roller.  This 
surface  of  pebbles  is  found  to  cover  a  mass  of  sand  which  lies 
below.     Its    protective  value  is  obvious.     Without    it   the    sand 


A  General  View  of  the  Desert  17 

would  be  blown  to  and  fro  by  the  winds  and  thus  add  to  the  dis- 
comfort of  residents  and  travelers. 

It  should  be  noted  in  this  connection  that  the  polishing  of  these 
pebbles  is  not  accomplished  by  a  steady  wind  blast  in  one  direc- 
tion, as  that  of  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  but  by  the  action  of  a 
finer-grained  sand  and  dust,  blown  to  and  fro  by  the  varying 
winds. 

On  the  Yuma  and  San  Diego  road  after  leaving  Cameron 
Lake  lies  the  Yuha  Plain,  the  most  desolate,  forbidding,  barren, 
and  terrible  part  of  the  whole  desert.  It  is  largely  volcanic, 
several  cone-shaped  peaks  rising  from  the  blackened  plain  be- 
neath.    It  is  below  sea-level  and  the  rocks  of  the  plain  and  the 


Freaks 
of  erosion 
in  the  Yuha  country 


bases  of  the  near-by  western  mountains  are  washed  and  eroded 
in  a  wonderful  manner.  A  recent  writer  thus  describes  them : 
"Mingling  with  the  burnt  stones  and  volcanic  debris  are  rocks 
worn  by  the  waves  and  shaped  into  hundreds  of  fantastic  forms. 
There  are  many  acres  of  these  stone  curiosities,  and  certain  sections 
of  the  fields  seem  devoted  to  certain  shapes  and  figures. 

"For  instance,  one  passes  through  a  region  which  he  at  once 
names  the  cabbage  patch,  for  it  presents  the  appearance  of  a  field 
of  those  vegetables  which  have  turned  to  stone.  The  waves 
have  worn  the  rocks  into  round  boulders  about  the  size  of  the 
vegetable  which  they  so  much  resemble,  and  have  cut  into  the 
globes,  laminating  them  in  perfect  imitation  of  the  leafy  layers 
of  the  garden  vegetable. 

Vol.  I.  — 2 


18  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

"Another  locality  is  devoted  almost  exclusively  to  dinner-plates. 
Thousands  of  rounded,  thin  disks  are  scattered  over  the  plain  or 
are  piled  scores  deep  in  singular  piles,  each  piece  shaped  exactly 
like  the  crockery  which  adorns  our  tables,  and  quite  as  thin  and 
symmetrical. 

"Another  section  of  this  truly  wonderful  region  is  given  almost 
wholly  to  dumb-bells.  These  vary  in  size  from  pieces  weighing 
one  or  two  pounds  up  to  those  seemingly  calculated  for  exer- 
cising the  muscles  of  a  giant,  and  weighing  thirty  or  forty  pounds 
each.  In  almost  every  instance  these  natural  dumb-bells  are 
well  balanced,  the  balls  at  either  end  of  the  connecting  piece  being 
of  the  same  size  and  weight. 

"There  is,  in  this  plain,  an  arsenal,  also.  While  guns  and  swords 
and  bayonets  and  powder  were  not  there  to  be  found,  there  are 
thousands  of  cannon-balls  varying  in  size  from  two-  and  three-inch 
balls  to  those  fit  for  the  big  thirteen-inch  guns  of  modern  warfare. 
And  all  are  of  stone.     All  formed  in  Nature's  workshop. 

"There  are  other  objects  innumerable.  There  are  stone  roses, 
stone  lilies,  stone  tulips,  stone  leaves,  stone  birds,  stone  animals, 
stone  quoits,  stone  ornaments  in  varied  and  unique  designs,  stone 
canes  —  in  fact,  an  immense  variety  of  things  imitated  in  stone 
on  the  plain  of  Yuha. 

"  In  the  direction  of  Carrizo  Creek,  in  one  portion  of  Yuha,  rise 
two  hills,  or  small  mountains.  One  might  mistake  them,  in  the 
distance,  for  ancient  craters,  but  when  he  approaches  the  eminences 
he  discovers  them  to  be  monuments  to  an  ancient  life  —  the  records 
of  species  now  extinct.  They  are  shell  mountains;  great  beds  of 
prehistoric  bivalves  which  were  left  stranded  when  that  ancient 
sea  swept  back  from  the  region  and  left  a  dry  and  desolate  land. 

"One  of  these  mountains,  the  larger  one,  is  composed  wholly  of 
large  rough  shells,  much  larger  but  less  elongated  than  the  shells 
of  the  modern  oyster,  which,  in  some  respects,  they  so  much  re- 
semble as  to  lead  to  the  suspicion  that  they  are  the  remains  of  the 
ancestors  of  our  much-prized  bivalve. 

"The  lesser  hill  is  composed  of  tiny  shells  of  a  prehistoric  type  of 
brachiopoda.  Like  the  larger  shells,  they  are  found,  except  on 
the  surface,  in  an  undisturbed  state,  both  valves  of  nearly  every 
shell  being  found  in  position.     Although  the  mollusk  dwellers  of 


A  General  View  of  the  Desert  19 

these  shells  vanished  several  centuries  ago,  so  perfect  are  the  shells 
one  almost  expects,  when  he  opens  the  valves  of  the  shell,  to  find 
the  living  creature  within." 

Until  the  Salton  Sea  covered  them  in  May,  1906,  one  of  the  most 
interesting  and  peculiar  features  oi  the  desert  was  the  so-called 
"Mud  Volcanoes."  There  is  another  group  of  these  below  the 
Mexican  line  in  the  vicinity  of  Volcano  Lake.  While  the  upper 
group  were  first  noticed  after  the  earthquake  of  1852,  they  are  un- 
doubtedly of  much  prior  existence.  They  were  boiling  springs  of 
quicksand  and  mud  that  had  thrown  up  their  own  cones  to  a  height 
varying  from  a  few  inches  to  fifteen  or  more  feet.  They  are  now 
drowned  out  by  the  Salton  a  few  miles  southwest  of  the  station 
of  Volcano. 

On    the    southwest    side   of  the 

,    ,        t--    -r-        t  1     »       1  \/\      >  Ptcacho  Peak 

point  below  rig  iree  John  s,  about  ¥  \     i  «  , 

twelve  or  fifteen  miles  toward  the  j  ]  |    j,  j    f  ocatilla 

mountains,  is  an  area  over  half  a 
mile  square,  covered  with  the  cones 
of  a  mud  volcanic  region  similar 
to  the  one  I  have  just  described. 
But  these  are  all  dead.  The  ces-  ~ 
sation  of  activity  left  the  cones  to 
the  forces  of  erosion.  Wind,  storm,  "Z^S--^^-^^ 
rain,  and  sand  are  playing  havoc 

with  them,  and  they  are  now  rapidly  succumbing  and  weathering 
away.  In  exploring  the  region,  however,  one  must  be  exceedingly 
careful  to  avoid  serious  injury,  or,  perhaps,  death,  for  the  chemical 
and  aqueous  agencies  long  ago  at  work  here  have  tunneled  strangely 
into  the  crust  of  the  earth.  Great  chambers,  long  galleries,  far- 
reaching  corridors,  tall  chimneys,  sloping  chutes,  and  yawning 
abysses  lie  in  wait,  merely  covered  by  the  calcareous  and  other  de- 
posits of  the  volcanoes.  In  treading  one  is  liable  to  step  on  one  of 
these  covered  pitfalls  and  drop  to  disaster  or  death  below.  Being 
out  of  the  line  of  any  travel  and  in  a  region  not  at  all  alluring  or 
suggestive  even  to  a  prospector,  this  "devil's  half-mile"  is  practi- 
cally unknown,  save  to  a  small  handful  of  the  adventurous  spirits 
that  love  to  penetrate  even  into  mysteries  that  seem  to  be  profitless. 
All  through  the  summer  and  occasionally  during  the  winter  dust 


20  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

whirlwinds  may  be  seen  in  different  parts  of  the  desert.  These 
spiral  shafts  of  whirling  sand  rise  to  the  height  of  one,  two,  even 
three  thousand  feet,  and  while  to  be  in  their  course  is  to  be  covered 
with  dust  and  to  have  one's  hat  and  clothing  and  hair  tousled 
and  roughly  handled,  to  stand  apart  and  witness  them,  like  shining 
shafts  of  marble,  glistening  in  the  sun,  moving  along  with  stately 
majesty,  is  to  witness  that  which  is  as  inspiring  as  it  is  novel. 

Distances  on  the  desert  seem  much  shorter  than  they  really  are. 
In  the  early  days  the  government  surveyors,  familiar  with  distances, 
estimated  the  distance  of  the  termination  of  the  San  Bernardino 
range  from  the  Colorado  River  at  four  miles.  They  found  it  to 
be  thirteen.  Every  party  of  prospectors  has  a  similar  experience. 
Its  members  start  out  to  reach  a  given  spot.  In  the  cool  morning 
air  they  are  exhilarated  and  confident.  They  ride  or  drive  or 
walk  and  the  object  gets  no  nearer.  The  hot  sun  comes  out  and 
scorches  all  exuberance  out  of  them  and  they  plod  on  in  weary 
desperation,  and  yet  they  seem  to  be  little,  if  any,  nearer.  Their 
water  gives  out  and  they  suffer  agony,  but  still  drag  one  foot  after 
another,  and  yet  their  destination  is  far  away,  and,  unless  some  one 
has  had  intuitive  foresight  or  unusual  precautions  have  been  taken, 
another  party  returns  to  civilization  with  one  or  more  of  its  mem- 
bers left  dead  on  the  desert. 

The  clarity  of  the  atmosphere  has  much  to  do  with  this  deception, 
for  it  enables  one  to  see  as  if  through  field-glasses,  but  the  chief 
reason  is  found  in  the  lack  of  moisture  in  the  atmosphere.  Moist- 
ure sets  out  the  various  parts  of  a  mountain  range  in  true  perspec- 
tive; each  ridge  has  a  moist  atmosphere,  so  to  speak,  to  float  in  and 
make  it  stand  out  from  every  other  ridge.  This  enables  the  eye 
to  judge  of  comparative  distances.  But  on  the  desert  one  ridge 
is  superposed  upon  another,  one  range  upon  another,  and  the  eye 
is  unable  to  segregate  them.  Not  until  one  is  close  upon  them 
are  the  separations  noticeable.  Then,  too,  the  clarity  of  the 
atmosphere,  combined  with  the  rarity  of  objects  of  comparison, 
aids  in  the  deception.  The  very  barrenness  of  the  desert  aids  in 
making  distances  illusive.  Were  its  vast  spaces  filled  up  with 
towns  and  cities,  forests  and  rivers,  even  though  its  atmospheric 
conditions  could  be  preserved  (which,  of  course,  they  could  not), 
the  illusions  of  distance  would  be  materially  decreased. 


A  General  View  of  the  Desert 


21 


As  to  the  heat  of  the  desert,  the  temperature  has  a  wide  range. 
In  winter  the  climate  is  delicious  beyond  compare,  but  in  summer 
it  is  hot,  120°  Fahrenheit  being  not  uncommon. 

Hot  ?  Yes.  So  hot  that  in  the  fertile  part  of  the  desert  many 
of  the  workmen,  plowing,  harrowing,  sowing,  reaping,  or  what 
not,  go  two  or  three  times  a  day  and  incontinently  tumble  them- 
selves, clothes  and  all,  into  the  irrigation  reservoirs,  then  walk  out 
and  coolly  go  on  with  their  work. 

Hot  ?  Yes.  So  hot  that  I  know  men  who  turn  the  hose  upon 
their  bed  and  sprinkle  it  down  about  five  or  six  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing in  order  to  cool  it  off  before  they  retire. 

In  the  summer  months  it  behooves   every  stranger  upon  the 


IlB 


s  -ft~fe  - '-:  r°"¥— *-*  * — — »i 


.4  Yuma  Indian  bulletins  his  house 


desert  to  beware  how  he  tempts  Providence.  Many  a  man,  who 
had  even  become  somewhat  acclimated,  has  lost  his  life  by  being 
too  bold,  too  confident. 

There  are  several  regions  that  may  be  termed  the  oases  of  the 
desert,  such  as  Palm  Springs,  the  Coachella  Valley —  which  includes 
Indio  on  the  north  and  Mecca  on  the  south  —  and  the  Imperial 
Valley.  These  are  all  caused  by  irrigation  and  are  beauty  spots, 
indeed,  when  compared  with  the  barrenness  of  the  surrounding 
country.  Their  origin  and  growth  and  the  marvelous  results  that 
experience  has  demonstrated  are  to  be  looked  for  by  further  efforts 
are  worthy  of  the  more  extended  observation  that  will  be  accorded 
in  other  chapters. 

Between  Parker,  Arizona,  and  Picacho,  California,  lies  the  great 


22  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

valley  of  the  Colorado  River.  This  is  an  alluvial  valley  one  hun- 
dred miles  long  and  about  eight  miles  wide.  It  contains  not  less 
than  five  hundred  thousand  acres  of  good  and  fertile  land  needing 
only  irrigation  to  make  it  as  productive  as  any  in  the  country. 

There  are  comparatively  few  Indians  in  the  desert  region.  The 
group  of  villages  of  Coahuillas  in  "Mesquite  Land"  and  the  con- 
tiguous mountains,  the  Chemehuevis  and  Yumas  on  the  Col- 
orado River,  and  a  few  nomad  Cocopahs  now  and  again  located 
near  to  Calexico,  with  their  primitive  dwellings,  are  the  only 
representatives. 

These,  in  the  main,  are  the  physical  features  that  characterize 
the  Colorado  Desert.  Though,  in  the  following  pages,  I  have 
confined  my  descriptions  to  the  region  north  of  the  Mexican  line, 
it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  no  arbitrary  political  boundary  sets 
off  the  Colorado  Desert.  The  same  conditions  exist  to  a  greater 
or  lesser  extent  below  the  line  as  above. 


The  Physical  History  of  the  Desert 


23 


CHAPTER   II 

The  Physical  History  of  the  Desert 

iESERTS  are  made,  not  born.  Like  Topsy  they 
'grow."  The  sands  and  beaches  and  min- 
eral deposits  and  mountains  of  a  desert  like 
the  Colorado  are  an  accretion,  a  more  or  less 
slow  growth,  not  a  sudden  birth.  The  geolo- 
gists have  discussed  the  problems  involved  in 
the  birth  of  the  mountain  ranges  of  the  desert, 
and  seem  to  be  agreed  that  they  are  of  a  later 
date  than  either  the  Coast  Range  or  the  Sierra 
Nevadas. 

Beyond  the  San  Bernardino  ranges  to  the  north  and  east  are 
numberless  smaller  ranges,  most  of  which  are  volcanic.  These 
and  the  consequent  valleys  between  fill  up  the  space  between 
the  sands  of  the  Colorado  Desert  and  those  of  the  Mohave. 
These  volcanic  ranges  are  scattered  in  careless  confusion  over 
the  whole  area.  There  is  no  parallelism,  no  uniformity  of  direc- 
tion or  size.  They  are  alike  in  their  rugged  barrenness,  their 
inhospitable  character,  their  almost  freedom  from  verdure,  and 
the  scarcity  of  water.  Almost  the  whole  region  east  and  west  of 
the  Colorado  River  for  six  hundred  miles  of  its  course  above  the 
gulf  may  be  said  to'have  the  same  singular  characteristics.  The 
plains  and  valleys  between  the  mountains  are  low,  hot,  arid,  and 
scantily  clad.  The  exceptions  from  these  generalizations,  both 
in  place  and  time,  are  fully  noted  elsewhere.  During  the  summer 
months  the  sun  pours  down  its  fierce  heat  upon  the  sands  and 
rocks  untempered  by  clouds  above  or  forest  shades  beneath. 
Rains  fall  seldom,  and  when  they  do  come  they  generally  fall  with 
such  suddenness  and  large  volume  that  they  sweep  over  the  country 
with  uncontrolled  force,  dashing  down  the  bare  mountains  in 
unrestrained  torrents  and  over  the  plains  in  floods  which  carry 


24  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

everything  before  them.  Disappearing  almost  as  rapidly  as 
they  come,  they  leave  no  nourishing  moisture  behind;  indeed  their 
sudden  onslaught  seems  to  do  more  harm  than  good,  for  they 
wash  away  a  large  part  of  the  humus  that,  with  pathetic  patience, 
the  sand  and  rocks  seek  to  accumulate  from  the  few  desert  plants 
and  shrubs  that  desperately  cling  to  the  inhospitable  region,  re- 
fusing to  be  ejected. 

Originally  here  were  but  few  springs,  and  though  I  have  written 
a  chapter  on  the  rivers  of  the  desert  only  the  Colorado  is  reliable 
in  its  constant  flow.  The  others  are  intermittent,  now  flooding 
the  regions  through  which  they  pass,  washing  out  roads,  carrying 
away  bridges  and  railway  tracks,  destroying  irrigating  aqueducts 
and  ditches  and  ruining  growing  crops,  and  then  ceasing  entirely, 
so  that  a  stranger  passing  over  their  course  is  apt  to  deny  their 
very  existence.  Capricious,  uncertain,  wilful,  and  destructive, 
they  are  not  like  the  beneficent  rivers  of  the  East  that  flow  placidly 
along  through  fertile  meadows,  friendly  to  man  and  beast  and 
yielding  themselves  to  the  general  aspects  of  civilized  countries. 
Like  the  wild  animals  that  lave  in  their  waters  and  the  sterile 
country  through  which  they  pass,  they  must  be  tamed  and  made 
subject  to  the  will  of  man  ere  they  will  yield  anything  of  beauty 
to  the  landscape,  nourishment  to  the  soil,  or  comfort  to  mankind. 
The  few  springs  have  been  fostered  and  cherished  by  dusky 
aborigine  and  white  settler  alike,  though  their  waters  are  for  the 
most  part  either  saline  or  alkaline.  Few,  if  any,  of  the  older 
known  springs,  save  in  the  higher  reaches  of  the  mountains,  but 
contain  minerals  in  solution  in  distinct  quantities,  so  that  both 
man  and  beast,  used  to  the  purer  water  of  more  hospitable  regions, 
seek  in  vain  to  quench  their  thirst.  Only  habitude  renders  the 
waters  palatable  and  acceptable.  The  story  of  how  many  of 
the  wells  came  to  be  dug  is  told  in  the  chapter  on  the  pathfinders, 
and  when  one  stands  by  the  side  of  these  pathetic  scenes  of  man's 
struggle  to  wrest  this  necessary  element  from  the  hostile  desert 
he  feels  to  the  full  the  measure  of  will  power,  of  indomitable 
energy,  of  dauntless  courage,  of  persistent  effort  his  fellows  are 
capable  of  making  in  order  to  carry  out  their  inflexible  will. 
Recently  artesian  wells  have  been  bored  in  the  upper  portion  of 
the  desert,  from  Indio  to  Mecca,  and  this  one  factor  has  changed 


The  Physical  History  of  the  Desert  25 

the  region  from  barren  and  waste  sand  to  fertile  and  rich  farms, 
where  melons,  cantaloupes,  figs,  oranges,  grapes,  and  small  fruits 
grow  to  perfection  and  are  ready  for  market  many  weeks  ahead 
of  those  grown  on  the  seacoast  side  of  the  mountain  ranges. 

There  are  three  principal  soil  levels.  The  first  is  best  seen 
when  descending  into  the  desert  over  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass. 
It  is  formed  of  great  masses  of  rock,  gravel,  and  detritus,  washed 
by  cloudbursts  down  the  canyons  and  sides  of  the  steep  moun- 
tains and  swept  far  out  over  the  sands.  Standing  at  Palm  Springs 
station  and  looking  to  the  northwest  a  great  "fan"  of  this  rocky 
detritus  is  seen,  many  scores  of  feet  high  and  extending  for  two 
or  more  miles  into  the  heart  of  the  desert.  The  second  level 
is  of  sand,  representing  the  former  beaches  and  bed  of  the  ancient 


The  San  Gorgonio  Pass 

sea,  while  the  third  is  composed  of  layers  of  clay,  fine  sand,  and 
silt,  laid  down  in  the  still  water  of  a  fresh-water  lake.  The  evi- 
dences of  this  fresh-water  lake  are  as  abundant  in  its  beaches  and 
shells  as  are  the  evidences  of  the  occupancy  of  the  region  by  the 
gulf.  All  along  the  foot-hills,  seen  to  the  right  after  the  train  leaves 
Palm  Springs  station,  and  approaching  Indio,  are  discolorations 
in  an  even,  horizontal  line  and  extending  for  a  long  distance. 
These  are  calcareous  incrustations  which  cover  the  surface  of 
the  rocks  and  enter  into  every  cavity  and  crevice.  At  Indio  the 
people  speak  of  them  as  "the  coral  reef"  and  take  their  friends 
and  visitors  to  see  them  as  a  great  curiosity.  This  crust  was 
undoubtedly  deposited  under  water,  and  on  examination  is 
found  to  be  cellular  and  full  of  small  spiral  shells.     These  shells 


20  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

also  are  found  in  vast  quantities  on  the  clay  and  are  scattered  all 
over  the  region  from  Indio  to  the  Salton  Sea  and  below.  In 
some  places  they  actually  whiten  the  ground  and  can  be  shoveled 
up  by  the  millions.  They  are  all  fresh-water  shells  of  the  Planor- 
bis,  Anodonta  {A.  Calif orniensis  Lea),  now  found  in  the  Colorado 
River,  Physa  (P.  humorosa),  and  Amnicola  {A.  protea  and  A. 
longinqua).  The  Physa  is  still  found  in  some  of  the  springs  on 
the  New  River. 

While  the  surrounding  mountains  have  contributed  their  quota 
to  the  sands,  gravels,  and  clays  that  constitute  the  floor  of  the 
desert,  they  have  yielded  but  an  infinitesimal  part  of  the  vast 
quantities  that  have  here  found  lodgment  and  home.  The  history 
of  these  sands  and  their  removal  to  this  region  is  one  of  the  most 
fascinating  chapters  of  dynamic  geology  and  one  which  more 
fully,  perhaps,  than  any  other  manifestation  bf  natural  power  sets 
off  its  majesty  as  compared  with  the  pygmy  endeavors  of  man. 
The  full  history  can  be  read  only  by  years  of  study  in  the  mountains 
where  the  Colorado  River  has  its  birth  and  in  the  plateau  regions 
through  which  it  and  its  tributaries  flow,  but  a  good  substitute 
for  these  years  of  personal  investigation  and  study  may  be  found 
in  Major  Powell's  great  book  on  the  "Canyons  of  the  Colorado." 
Here  he  traces,  step  by  step,  the  growth  of  the  mountains,  their 
steady  uplift  out  of  the  primeval  oceans,  the  birth  of  the  river, 
the  slow  cutting  down  of  its  mountain  channel  to  correspond 
with  the  land's  uplift,  and  the  denudation  and  degradation  of 
the  rocky  strata  of  the  country  for  many  hundreds  of  miles.  All 
the  rocks  and  sand  and  debris  of  these  strata  found  their  way 
into  the  Colorado  river-bed,  there  to  be  tumbled  and  tossed, 
rolled  and  crushed,  battered  and  pounded  out  of  all  resemblance 
to  their  original  rocky  form  and  carried  either  bodily,  by  the 
force  of  the  stream,  or  in  solution,  to  be  voided  violently  at  its 
mouth  or  deposited  gently  as  the  flow  of  the  river  grew  more 
sluggish. 

See,  then,  this  native  bowl  of  the  Colorado  Desert.  Com- 
paratively little  of  rocky  debris  had  flowed  into  it  from  its  own 
immediate  mountains.  The  waters  of  the  Gulf  of  California 
reached  up  as  far  as  the  slopes  of  Mounts  San  Jacinto  and  San 
Bernardino,  taking  in  all  the  region  now  known  as  the  Imperial 


The  Physical  History  of  the  Desert  27 

Valley,  the  Salton  Basin,  and  the  Coachella  Valley.  It  stretched 
away  to  the  south  as  far  west  as  the  Cocopah  Mountains,  which 
are  an  eastern  offshoot  of  the  Sierra  San  Jacinto.  Beyond  the 
Cocopahs,  also,  the  gulf  extended,  over  what  is  now  called  the 
Maquata  Basin,  to  the  slopes  of  the  main  range  and  up  in  the 
direction  of  San  Diego.  The  whole  of  the  present  delta  of  the 
river  was  included,  so  that  there  was  an  area  of  over  three  thou- 
sand square  miles  which,  in  those  prehistoric  days,  was  included 
in  the  Gulf  of  California  and  covered  by  its  waters.  And  this 
area  does  not  include  the  Mohave  Desert.  How  came  about 
the  change,  and  whence  all  this  vast  volume  of  sand  to  fill  up  so 
large  an  area  ?  As  I  have  elsewhere  shown,  the  Colorado  River 
is  the  answer.  It  was  the  excavator,  the  steam  shovel,  the  power 
dredger,  the  carrier,  the  depositor  of  it  all.  Unaided  it  has  accom- 
plished what  all  the  men  of  all  time  with  all  the  machines  ever 
invented  could  not  have  done. 

From  many  evidences  it  is  assumed  that  the  river,  at  this  time, 
emptied  into  the  gulf  not  far  from  Pilot  Knob,  pouring  out  its 
waters  in  a  southwesterly  direction  against  the  Cocopah  peninsula. 
Day  after  day,  week  after  week,  month  after  month,  year  after 
year,  the  surcharged  river  voided  its  load  into  the  open  gulf.  It 
is  more  than  probable  that  the  coarser  and  heavier  materials 
were  deposited  near  the  mouth  of  the  stream,  thus  forming  a 
perpetually  growing  encroachment  upon  the  waters  of  the  gulf. 
Little  by  little  the  bowl  was  filled  up,  until  at  last  the  material 
brought  down  by  the  river  began  to  show  above  the  face  of  the 
water  at  low  tide.  This  deposited  material  then  asserted  its 
will  over  that  of  the  river.  It  said  in  effect,  "You  shall  not  deposit 
all  you  bring  right  here.  You  must  carry  it  farther  down,"  and 
in  sullen  anger  the  river  slowly  and  sluggishly  obeyed. 

But  when  the  snows  of  the  winter  were  melted  by  the  summer's 
sun  in  the  high  mountainous  regions  and  "a  million  cascade  brooks 
united  to  form  a  thousand  torrent  creeks;  a  thousand  torrent 
creeks  united  to  form  half  a  hundred  rivers  beset  with  cataracts; 
and  half  a  hundred  rivers  united  to  form  the  Colorado,"  and  all 
these  brought  their  large  quota  of  mud,  sand,  pebbles,  and  rocky 
debris  and  poured  them  into  this  one  great  river,  it  occasionally 
rose  in  its  mad,  wild  fury  and  shot  its  unwelcome  load  wherever 


28  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

it  would.  At  such  times  it  broke  all  the  bounds  it  had  made  for 
itself  by  previous  depositions  in  the  gulf. 

During  one  of  these  floods  it  voided  so  vast  an  amount  of  sedi- 
ment that  the  area  directly  in  front  of  its  mouth  was  covered  to 
a  height  much  above  that  which  the  water  itself  attained  when  the 
flow  was  normal.  As  a  result,  when  the  flood  subsided,  a  great 
dam  was  found  to  have  been  built  which  shut  off  the  northern 
portion  of  the  gulf,  that  which  included  the  Imperial,  Salton,  and 
Coachella  Valleys.  "Under  these  conditions,"  says  Professor 
Blake,  "the  channel  connecting  the  upper  and  lower  portions  of 
the  gulf  must  have  gradually  become  more  and  more  shallow,  and 
the  continued  growth  of  the  delta  must  have  filled  it  up,  so  that 
the  tide  could  no  longer  ebb  and  flow  to  the  upper  end,  thus  form- 
ing a  lake,  its  only  barrier  on  the  south  being  the  silt  and  mud  of 
the  Colorado.  This  barrier  was  probably  an  extended  flat,  and 
not  a  narrow  bar,  for  the  silt  was  undoubtedly  much  spread  about 
by  the  tides  and  the  current  caused  by  influx  of  the  river.  A  very 
considerable  portion  of  the  silt  was  doubtless  carried  to  the  extreme 
northern  part  of  the  gulf,  forming  the  foundation  for  the  super- 
stratum of  clay  of  lacustrine  origin  which  we  now  find  there.  The 
accumulation,  however,  was  undoubtedly  most  rapid  and  deep 
opposite  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and  it  must  have  formed  an  effec- 
tual barrier  between  one  part  of  the  gulf  and  the  other.  It  must 
have  been  covered  by  only  a  few  feet  of  water,  and  was  thus  left 
entirely  bare  at  low  tides.  Such  conditions  were  most  favorable 
for  the  rapid  growth  and  transformation  of  the  flats  to  dry  land 
or  salt  marsh.  Every  great  freshet  in  the  stream  must  have  made 
great  additions  to  it,  until  at  length  it  was  submerged  only  when 
the  tides  were  very  high  and  the  river  much  swollen.  In  that 
climate,  a  surface  of  mud  exposed  to  the  sun  and  air,  and  so  well 
watered,  must  have  been  covered  with  a  luxuriant  growth  of  tule, 
grass,  and  other  vegetation;  and  it  doubtless  existed  for  a  long  time 
as  a  low  swamp,  traversed  in  every  direction  by  sloughs  and 
channels. 

"It  is  probable  that  even  after  the  delta  had  so  far  grown  as  to 
be  above  the  water,  there  were  numerous  narrow  canal-like 
channels  between  the  river  and  the  lake,  or  between  the  lake  and 
the  gulf;   so  that  the  water  in  the  lake  was  constantly  retained  at 


The  Physical  History  of  the  Desert  29 

the  same  level.  That  the  lake  received  its  supply  of  water,  in 
great  part,  from  the  river  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  it  was  fresh 
water,  or  but  slightly  saline;  the  presence  of  salt  or  brackish  water 
being  proved  by  the  fossil  shell  Gnathodon  Lecontei.  The  great 
deposition  of  clay  containing  the  shells  probably  took  place  in 
this  way;  the  current  of  the  river  being  at  times,  if  not  constantly, 
turned  in  that  direction.  In  this  case  the  excess  of  water,  if  not 
removed  by  evaporation,  must  have  flowed  out  into  the  gulf  by 
some  channel  farther  south.  It  is  not  impossible  that  the  Colo- 
rado once  flowed  along  the  line  of  banks  or  terraces  near  Cookes 
Well  and  the  Alamo,  and  after  depositing  its  silt  in  the  quiet  water 
of  the  lake,  escaped  to  the  gulf,  at  some  point  near  or  below  the 
present  entrances  to  New  River.  With  the  immense  quantities 
of  silt  that  the  Colorado  brings  down,  even  now,  such  conditions 
could  not  long  remain,  and  the  river  must  have  been  turned 
toward  the  more  open  waters  of  the  gulf  by  the  resistance  of  its 
own  depositions.  After  the  lake  had  become  deprived  of  its  sup- 
ply of  water  from  the  river,  and  its  communication  with  the  gulf 
became  closed,  except,  perhaps,  at  seasons  of  freshets,  it  must  have 
undergone  rapid  evaporation,  especially  in  that  region  of  violent 
arid  winds,  pouring  in  from  the  surrounding  deserts  and  over  the 
mountains  from  the  sea.  It  is  not  difficult  to  comprehend  that 
this  cause  was  sufficient  to  remove  all  the  water  from  the  lake  in 
the  course  of  a  few  years. 

"Some  of  the  conditions  which  have  been  detailed  as  probable 
are  still  found  to  exist.  The  Colorado  yet  continues  to  overflow 
at  seasons  of  high  water,  and  the  water  runs  backward  for  sixty 
miles,  and  forms  a  chain  of  small  lakes  or  ponds;  the  water  in  these 
evaporates  rapidly,  and  disappears  soon  after  the  supply  ceases. 
We  find  an  extensive  area  of  low  and  marshy  land  around  the 
head  of  the  gulf,  which  is  annually  overflowed  and  covered  by 
quantities  of  silt  spread  out  upon  it  by  the  Colorado.  Father 
Consag,  who  made  the  first  survey  of  the  gulf  in  1746,  ascending 
as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado,  describes  the  land  about  it 
as  low  and  marshy;  the  mud  being  red,  and  so  soft  that  it  would 
not  support  the  men  when  they  stepped  out  upon  it.  The  enor- 
mous quantities  of  silt  carried  down  by  the  river  is  shown  not  only 
by  the  dark-red  color  of  its  water,  but  by  the  discoloration  that 


30  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

it  produces  in  the  water  of  the  gulf,  which  was  formerly  called 
the  Vermilion  Sea,  probably  from  its  red  color." 

I  have  thus  presented  in  full  Mr.  Blake's  theory  of  the  formation 
of  the  Salton  Basin.  It  was  the  first,  and  so  far  has  been  the  only 
scientific  presentation  of  the  subject.  I  am  inclined  to  think, 
however,  that  slight  divergences  from  his  theories  may  be  noted, 
based  upon  my  recent  studies  of  the  Alamo  and  New  Rivers. 
These  differences  will  be  noted  as  the  careful  observer  reads  what 
follows. 

Assuming  the  casting  up  of  the  natural  dam  and  the  isolation  of 
the  northern  portion  of  the  gulf,  it  will  be  seen  that  it  was  still  full 
of  salt  water,  —  water  brought  in  by  the  tides  that  rise  and  fall  in 
the  gulf.  Being  thus  shut  off  from  the  gulf  and  receiving  no  ma- 
terial inflow  from  any  other  source,  evaporation  soon  dried  it  up. 

Some  geologists  in  accounting  for  this  shutting  ofF  of  the  desert 
from  the  Gulf  of  California  assert  that  it  was  partially  attributable 
to  one  of  the  slow  uplifts  of  which  we  have  so  many  evidences 
throughout  the  geological  world.  This  seems  to  be  more  an 
assumption  than  a  scientific  deduction,  for  careful  measurement 
of  the  old  beach  lines,  which  are  found  all  along  the  walls  of  the 
desert,  shows  that  they  have  the  same  elevation  as  the  present-day 
sea-level.  It  would  appear,  therefore,  that  there  has  been  no 
uplift  of  the  region  since  the  gulf  occupied  it,  but  rather  that  the 
river  itself  caused  its  isolation,  and  evaporation  carried  ofF  the 
imprisoned  waters.  In  the  meantime  the  river  built  up  a  channel 
for  itself  higher  than  the  surrounding  country  which  it  had  made, — 
a  channel  which  flowed  to  the  east  of  the  great  dam  it  had  formed 
and  with  a  general  trend  southward.  Floods  still  continued  to  be 
made  by  the  melting  snows  of  the  mountains,  and  possibly  each 
year  the  river  overflowed  its  self-made  channel  into  the  low-lying 
country  beyond.  By  this  time  —  for  it  would  take  but  a  few 
short  years  to  completely  dry  out  all  the  salt  water  from  the  iso- 
lated basin  —  the  desert  bowl  possessed  somewhat  the  appearance 
it  has  for  us  to-day.  The  sea  beach  line  was  formed,  and  the  great 
piles  of  sand  were  being  dried  out  and  carried  to  and  fro  by  the 
winds  as  they  are  now. 

Then  came  a  flood  which  broke  over  channel  and  dam  alike 
and  formed  the  course  of  what  we  call  the  Alamo  River.     This  was 


The  Physical  History  of  the  Desert  Si 

the  channel  through  which  a  portion  of  the  waters  of  the  Colorado 
was  poured  into  the  basin  and  made  of  it  a  fresh-water  lake.  Year 
after  year  it  flowed,  and  maintained  the  fresh-water  character  of 
what  had,  in  comparatively  recent  times,  been  an  arm  of  the  gulf, 
then  a  salt  lake,  then  a  dry  basin.  It  was  at  this  time  that  the 
fresh-water  shells  were  deposited  of  which  millions  are  now  found, 
and  the  calcareous  matter  deposited  which  forms  the  "coral  reef" 
west  of  Indio. 

Possibly  it  was  while  the  bed  of  the  basin  was  dry  that  the  abo- 
rigines first  came  and  dwelt  in  it.  If  so,  this  would  account  for 
their  tradition  that  long  after  they  had  occupied  the  region  the 
floods  came  and  drove  them  out.      But  I  am  inclined  to  the  opinion 


Salton  Sea  by  moonlight 

that  this  occurred  not  once,  but  many  times.  The  new  channel  of 
the  Alamo  may  have  conducted  the  waters  for  many  scores  of 
years  or  even  centuries  into  the  fresh-water  lake,  —  for,  of  course, 
its  waters  would  now  be  fresh  owing  to  its  isolation  from  the 
gulf,  —  and  during  this  period  another  overflow  cut  the  channel 
we  call  the  New  River.  For  there  is  no  reason  to  assume  that 
the  New  River  is  a  recent  creation,  any  more  than  that  the  Alamo 
is.  The  same  conditions  that  caused  the  Alamo  may  also  have 
created  the  New,  and  the  geological  history  of  both  confirms  this 
theory.  Both  have  been  fresh-water  channels  to  the  Salton  Basin 
from  long  before  historic  times. 

Then  came  another  flood  epoch,  which  built  a  dam  across  the 
Alamo  channel.     This  closed  part  of  the  fresh-water  supply  and 


32  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

finally,  when  another  flood  closed  the  New  River  channel,  the 
Salton  Sea  again  dried  up,  this  time  leaving  the  evidences  of  its 
fresh-water  history. 

The  evidences  are  clear  that  the  Alamo  channel  had  its  entrance 
not  far  —  a  few  miles  to  the  north  or  the  south  —  of  the  intake 
cut  by  Engineer  Rockwood  of  the  California  Development  Com- 
pany, so  that  he  was  merely  doing  what  Nature  had  done  centuries 
before,  and  at  the  same  time  undoing  some  of  Nature's  later  work. 
Thus  we  have  the  spectacle  again  presented  to  us  of  the  Salton 
Basin  filling  up  with  the  fresh  water  of  the  Colorado  River.  Un- 
fortunately the  conditions  now  are  not  so  simple  as  when  none  but 
a  few  nomad  Indians  occupied  the  dried-out  sea  bed.  Miles  and 
miles  of  railway,  a  score  or  more  of  towns,  and  fully  fifteen  thou- 
sand inhabitants,  with  their  homes,  their  orchards,  their  farms, 
their  all,  live  in  the  bowl  of  what  in  turn  has  been  gulf,  salt  sea, 
and  fresh-water  lake.  Hence  what  man  can  do  to  arrest  what 
would  once  have  been  regarded  as  the  simple  and  natural  course 
of  nature  he  will  do  with  energy,  persistence,  and  success,  and  the 
Salton  will  erelong  revert  to  its  former  condition  as  the  Colorado 
is  forced  back  into  its  old  channel. 

While  there  are  many  other  dynamic  problems  connected  with 
the  desert,  these  will  be  found  discussed  elsewhere  to  prevent 
repetition,  my  chief  aim,  in  this  chapter,  being  to  make  clear  the 
theories  I  hold  as  to  the  successive  steps  in  the  history  of  the 
peculiar  and  distinctive  below-sea-level  feature  of  the  Colorado 
Desert. 


Desert  Surprises 


33 


CHAPTER   III 


Desert   Surprises 

■rfgSJSP^fP^BP^tek H E  horrors,  terrors,  discomforts,  and  harsh 
^BBfel^^%  /ffikmffl**  conditions  of  the  desert  have  so  largely  been 
dwelt  upon  bywriters  and  others  that  there 
are  few  people  who  are  not  filled  with  mis- 
conceptions as  to  what  the  desert  really  is. 
To  such  the  desert  —  as  it  is —  is  a  place 
of  perpetual  surprises.  One  morning  I 
found  myself  recounting  these  surprises. 
The  long  list  of  them  amazed  me.  This  chapter  is  the  result. 
It  is  merely  a  condensation  of  what  will  be  found  treated  more 
fully  elsewhere  in  these  pages. 

One  of  the  first  great  surprises  is  the  clarity  of  the  atmosphere. 
Even  to  those  well  acquainted  with  the  clearness  of  Southern 
California  —  the  peopled  portions  usually  known  by  that  name  — 
the  especial  transparency  of  the  desert  atmosphere  comes  as  a 
delight  and  a  surprise.  Everything  stands  out  with  startling 
vividness.  Every  line  of  the  mountains  is  as  sharply  defined  as 
if  newly  cut;  each  dent  and  dimple,  canyon  and  peak,  is  clear  and 
clean  cut.  In  the  early  morning  when  there  are  no  heat  waves, 
no  haze,  no  flying  sand,  there  seems  to  be  no  limit  to  one's  vision. 
Size,  of  course,  suffers,  but  everything,  no  matter  how  far  distant, 
is  clearly  to  be  seen. 

The  large,  bright  beauty  of  the  stars  is  a  surprise.  Only  on  the 
desert  are  such  stars  and  such  evening  skies  ever  seen.  In  a  vault 
of  pure,  deep,  turquoise  blue  each  star  stands  out  with  a  vivid  lu- 
minosity that  is  startling.  They  seem  larger  as  well  as  clearer.  In 
the  presence  of  such  stars  one  can  better  understand  the  story  of 
the  wise  men  who  came  to  see  the  infant  Jesus,  led  by  the  star  in 
the  East.  In  such  a  desert  atmosphere  a  large  star  would  blaze 
with  a  power  of  attractiveness  no  intelligent  mind  could  resist. 

Vol.  I.  —  3 


34 


■  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


And,  oh!  the  surprises  of  the  night.  Heat,  fierce,  blazing, 
scorching,  intense  all  day!  Then,  as  soon  as  the  shadows  fall, 
how  soothing,  how  restful,  how  delicious  everything  becomes! 
The  coolness,  like  a  silent  dream  river,  flows  all  over  and  around 
you,  and  then  into  you  and  you  feel  the  restful  influences  as  a 
real  thing  entering  into  your  being.  The  calm  quietude  seems 
a  foretaste  of  that  future  we  think  of,  "where  the  wicked  cease 
from  troubling  and  the  weary  are  at  rest." 

The  heat  of  the  desert  is  a  matter  of  great  surprise  to  most 
people.  Temperatures,  in  the  shade,  of  i  io°  Fahrenheit,  120°,  and 
even  1300  are  not  uncommon,  and  once  in  a  while  it  reaches  1400 
and  even  higher.  Out  in  the  sun  the  thermometer  must  be 
much  higher.  I  well  remem- 
ber one  night —  a  very 
unusual  case  — 


Palms  in  the  foot-hills  near  India 


where  the  thermometer  registered  1280  at  midnight.  To  those 
familiar  with  the  enervating  and  depressing  heat  of  the  moister 
atmospheres  in  the  middle  western  and  eastern  states  these 
figures  seem  incredible,  and  the  wonder  is  not  lessened  when  it 
is  discovered  that  white  men  as  well  as  Indians  work  all  through 
the  summer  in  these  temperatures,  without  fear  of  sunstroke, 
which  is  practically  unknown,  and  are  both  healthy  and  happy. 
Yet  the  heat  is  intense.  Let  this  be  not  misunderstood.  I  do 
not  wish  to  minify  the  frightful  and  scorching  heat  of  the  desert, 
and  its  effect  upon  those  who  are  unused  to  it.  At  first  it  seems 
as  if  it  would  paralyze  one,  as  if  he  must  dry  up  and  blow  away. 
This,  of  course,  is  in  the  hottest  days  of  summer.  These  are  the 
days  when  it  is  suicide  for  the  stranger  to  attempt  to  go  out  alone 
on  the  desert,  and  yet,  strange  to  say,  many  a   new  prospector 


Desert  Surprises  35 

will  make  his  initial  trip  at  such  a  time,  thus  giving  rise  to  another 
of  the  desert  surprises.  For  is  it  not  surprising  to  a  remarkable 
degree  that  an  intelligent  human  being  will  start  out  on  such  a 
dangerous  trip  without  due  regard  to  his  safety  and  without  con- 
sultation with  those  who  are  able  to  advise  him  ?  Many  a  bleached 
skeleton  is  all  that  is  left  to  tell  of  the  foolhardiness  of  those  who 
have  dared  the  fierce  desert  heat  in  this  manner. 

Yet  there  is  a  very  definite  reason  for  this  self-evident  fool- 
hardiness.  It  is  another  of  the  surprises  of  the  desert.  The  clar- 
ity of  the  atmosphere  makes  distances  deceptive.  This  is  now 
so  well  known  that  few  are  not  aware  that  the  fact  is  as  stated, 
and  yet,  such  is  the  reliance  one  places  upon  his  judgment  or  on 
the  unsupported  evidence  of  his  own  senses,  that  he  will  not  accept 
the  warnings  of  those  who  know,  but  walks  directly  and  seemingly 
with  wilfulness  into  the  greatest  danger. 

This,  however,  is  only  a  small  part  of  the  explanation.  During 
the  cool  of  the  early  morning,  while  the  air  is  like  champagne  or 
some  electric  fluid  coursing-  through  his  veins  and  giving  to  nerves 
and  muscles  unwonted  sensations  of  stimulus  and  exaltation, 
it  requires  a  more  than  usually  steady  brain  to  keep  one  from 
forgetting  the  limits  of  his  strength  and  the  change  a  few  hours 
will  bring.  Heat  ?  What  heat  can  hurt  him  feeling  as  he  now 
does  ?  Water  ?  He  can  walk  thirty  miles  as  easily  as  five  in 
this  atmosphere.  And  he  starts  out  under  the  influence  of  this 
delicious  desert  intoxication  —  I  have  done  it  myself  many  a 
time  —  only  to  find  suffering  awaiting  him  later,  and,  if  he  be 
very  ignorant  of  desert  conditions,  possibly  death.  Even  old 
prospectors  are  occasionally  bewitched  into  carelessness  by  these 
seductive  electric  conditions,  and  the  older  and  wiser  the  pros- 
pector the  less  willing  is  he  to  take  any  chances.  For  the  midday 
and  afternoon  heat  are  blistering  and  burning  beyond  conception 
of  the  mind  familiar  only  with  ordinary  conditions. 

And  yet,  strange  to  say,  in  spite  of  this  heat  the  wonderful 
range  of  temperature  found  on  the  desert  and  its  environs  is 
one  of  its  greatest  surprises. 

When  you  tell  the  stranger  that  the  thermometer  registers  as 
low  as  1 70  Fahrenheit,  or  fifteen  degrees  below  freezing,  a  very 
much  lower  temperature  than  is  found  in  the  better  known  parts 


A  lone 

palm 

in 

A  ndreas 

Canyon 


36 


Desert  Surprises  37 

of  Southern  California,  he  finds  it  a  difficult  statement  to  believe. 
If,  in  addition  to  this,  you  include  the  temperature  of  the  moun- 
tains of  l^ie  desert  in  the  range,  the  figures  are  more  startling 
still,  as  it  is  asserted  (no  observations  having  been  made)  that 
on  the  summits  of  San  Gorgonio  and  San  Jacinto  a  temperature 
far  below  zero  is  to  be  found. 

Here  then,  given  a  zero  temperature,  we  have  a  range  from 
zero  to  l6o°  Fahrenheit,  surely  a  wide  enough  variation  to  satisfy 
the  most  exacting. 

But  it  is  not  only  in  the  wide  ranged  temperature  recorded  at 
different  times  and  places  on  the  desert  that  surprises  lurk.  One 
is  sometimes  met  with  a  climatic  change  in  a  short  walk  or  drive 
that  is  startling  in  its  suddenness.  Some  atmospheric  phenome- 
non causes  an  immediate  radiation  of  heat,  or  influx  of  cold  air, 
that  is  almost  paralyzing.  Once  in  riding  out  from  Palm  Valley 
to  Palm  Springs  station  I  left  in  a  most  comfortable  temperature. 
It  must  be  remembered  that  the  valley  is  completely  sheltered 
from  the  north  and  west  by  the  gigantic  walls  of  Mount  San 
Jacinto.  The  moment  we  emerged  from  the  sheltering  walls 
a  fierce,  cold,  penetrating  blast,  rushing  with  great  speed  down 
through  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  struck  us  and  ere  we  reached 
the  station  we  were  almost  stiff  with  the  cold. 

The  reverse  of  this  experience,  where  one  goes  from  the  cold  or 
hot  .wind  of  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass  into  the  perfect  shelter  of 
the  spur  on  the  way  to  Palm  Valley,  seems  little  short  of  miracu- 
lous to  those  who  have  not  been  informed  and  who  do  not  com- 
prehend the  simple  explanation  of  the  phenomenon. 

Rain  on  the  desert  is  always  a  surprise.  Strangers  gaze  in 
wonder  at  the  simple  event  and  ask  in  amazement,  "Rain? 
Why,  I  thought  it  never  rained  on  the  desert."  The  desert  dweller, 
who  during  a  hot  and  rainless  spring,  summer,  and  fall  almost 
forgets  how  it  looks  and  feels  to  have  the  beneficent  showers 
fall  upon  him  and  the  dry  and  thirsty  country  around,  and  who 
feels  thirsty  at  every  pore,  never  gets  over  his  surprise  and  delight 
when  the  first  rains  of  winter  come.  But  to  see  and  feel  it  rain  in 
the  middle  of  a  hot  summer,  who  can  describe  that  ?  Yet  it 
sometimes  occurs.  To  see  the  thirsty  ground,  the  shrubs  and 
trees  drink  it  in,  and  to  feel  the  delicious  moisture  penetrating 


38  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

every  pore  of  the  skin  and  soothing  every  nerve  and  muscle  and 
gently  stealing  even  into  the  brain  and  easing  up  the  dry,  taut 
feeling  there,  while  at  the  same  time  it  fills  the  veins  a«d  makes 
the  blood  flow  more  fluidly, —  that  is  surprise  and  delight  that 
few  have  ever  realized. 

Rain  generally  falls  from  December  to  February,  but  there  are 
showers  sometimes  in  the  heart  of  the  summer. 

And  in  this  connection  one  cannot  ignore  the  surprise  he  feels 
at  the  power  of  the  Indians  to  foretell  these  unusual  showers,  or 
the  abundance  or  scarcity  of  the  regular  rains.  This  past  summer 
one  of  the  Palm  Springs  Indians  definitely  assured  us,  "Heap 
plenty  rain  this  winter.  We  catch  'em  lots."  And  so  it  proved, 
for  the  winter  of  1905-06  has  seen  a  large  rainfall. 

It  will  be  a  surprise  to  many  to  learn  that  in  variation  of  altitude 
the  Colorado  Desert  is  the  most  remarkable  place  now  known 
on  earth.  The  San  Jacinto  Mountain  is  its  northwestern  out- 
post with  an  elevation  of  10,805  feet.  The  Salton  Basin  is  253 
feet  below  sea-level.  In  a  direct  line  the  distance  between  the 
two  is  approximately  twenty-five  to  thirty-five  miles,  so  that  in 
that  short  distance  the  desert  gives  us  a  variation  of  altitude  of 
over  eleven  thousand  feet. 

But  if  one  should  object  and  say  the  mountain  summit  should 
not  be  regarded  as  belonging  to  the  desert,  we  will  take  the  town 
of  Banning  as  the  highest  point  or  outpost  of  the  actual  desert. 
Its  elevation  is  2,317  feet,  which,  added  to  the  Salton  Sink  depres- 
sion, gives  a  variation  of  2,570  feet  in  a  distance  of  less  than  one 
hundred  miles. 

There  is  a  peculiar  charm  and  surprise  about  the  odors  of  the 
desert  that  needs  comment.  Each  odor  is  vivid  and  distinct, 
and  can  readily  be  distinguished  from  its  fellow.  It  is  as  if  the 
pure  atmosphere  compelled  a  segregation  of  odors  rather  than 
a  commingling  of  them.  I  remember  one  night  walking  along 
in  the  warm  air  of  the  virgin  desert  with  the  vivid  odo<-  of  the 
creosote  bush  filling  the  nostrils.  Suddenly  we  entered  a  stratum 
of  cooler  air.  The  creosote  disappeared  and  that  of  growing 
alfalfa  took  its  place.  Fifty  yards  farther  on  there  came  the 
smell  of  burning  wood  —  indicative  of  man's  dwelling  —  then 
the  odor  of  willows.     It  was  not  the  variety  that  surprised  but 


Desert  Surprises  39 

the  clear  vividness  of  each  odor  as  set  off  from  all  others  that 
arrested  the  attention. 

And  one  may  be  on  the  desert  a  whole  year  and  never  have  his 
senses  assailed  with  the  vile  odors  that  are  the  peculiar  property 
of  cities.  Decaying  garbage,  the  musty  smell  of  shut-in  rooms, 
the  awful  air  of  closed-up  churches,  the  polluted,  "gassy,"  earth 
smells  when  the  streets  are  dug  into  for  repairs  to  gas-mains,  etc., 
the  thousand  and  one  smells  and  stinks  and  abominations  to  the 
olfactory  senses  of  civilization  are  never  present  on  the  desert. 
I  am  willing  to  endure  the  primitive  conditions  in  order  to  be 
free  from  these  apparently  necessary  adjuncts  of  our  civilized 
life,  for  in  the  one  are  health  and  life  and  in  the  other  are  disease 
and  death. 

There  is  another  phase,  too,  of  the  odors  of  the  desert  that 
must  not  be  overlooked.  Whatever  the  doctors  or  scientists 
say  of  them,  there  can  be  no  question  but  that  the  odors  distilled 
by  the  sun  from  the  numberless  sages  and  other  desert  plants 
have  a  distinctly  soothing  and  healing  influence  upon  all  people 
suffering  from  pulmonary  or  bronchial  difficulties.  To  be  slowly 
suffocating  through  the  cruel  action  of  dread  disease  and  then 
to  come  here  and  find  relief,  find  the  lungs  beginning  to  expand 
again,  the  closed  passages  opening,  the  blood  beginning  to  cir- 
culate again,  this  is  to  experience  a  delightful  surprise.  And  it 
is  one  that  never  fails  if  the  sufferer  comes  early  enough  and  is 
willing  to  place  himself  wisely  under  these  beneficent  desert 
influences. 

The  colors  of  the  desert  are  a  never-ending  source  of  delightful 
surprise.  Here  where  I  sit  in  the'shade  of  a  house,  in  March,  1906, 
at  a  little  after  five  in  the  afternoon,  the  southeastern  extension 
of  the  San  Bernardino  range  and  the  Chocolate  Mountains  are 
before  me.  Such  a  mass  of  glowing  color  is  never  witnessed 
away  from  the  desert.  No  artist  could  reproduce  it.  Its  glow 
is  too  vivid  and  fiery.  The  hills  themselves  are  apparently  devoid 
of  all  verdure,  and  seem,  from  here,  as  if  made  of  varicolored 
clays,  —  the  predominant  tints  being  reddish  gray,  a  light  sage- 
green,  olive,  and  brick-red.  At  the  extreme  end  of  these  hills, 
which  are  gradually  diminished  in  height,  is  the  Chocolate  range, 
so  named  from  its  vivid  color.     As  one  looks  at  the  lighter  and 


40 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


lower  hills  in  front  of  the  darker  it.  is  hard  to  believe  that  the 
difference  is  a  real  one  of  color.  It  seems  as  if  it  must  be  that 
the  eastern  range  is  in  shadow,  while  the  foot-hills  are  in  brilliant 
sunshine.  To  the  left  stretching  far  away  to  the  north  and  north- 
west the  San  Bernardino  range  grows  darker  and  less  brilliant, 
and  the  snow-cap  of  the  giant  San  Gorgonio  is  hidden  in  the  haze 
of  the  sky.  Another  day  it  will  stand  out  as  vividly  and  distinctly 
as  if  but  a  mile  or  two  away,  and  every  canyon  in  the  seamed  and 
rugged  slopes  will  be  as  clearly  discernible  as  are  the  foot-hills 
just  before  me  this  afternoon. 

And  so  it  is  every  day.  The  moun- 
tains are  a  never-ending  source  of  surprise 
in  the  delightful  color  changes  they  offer. 
Then  the  sunrises  and  sunsets  and  the 
various  colored  sand,  and  the  glistening 
efflorescence  of  the  salt,  the  various  greens 
of  the  trees,  from  the  light  pea-green  of 
the  cottonwood  and  willows  to  the  olive- 
greens  of  the  mesquite  and  the  greenish 
Vandyke  browns  of  the  mistletoe, —  these 
are  to  be  seen  nowhere  else  in  the  world 
as  they  are  on  the  Colorado  Desert. 

Now,- half  an  hour  later,  the  hills  have 
lost  their  glow, —  they  are  in  shadow.    A 
far-away  summit  is  glorious  in  a  bath  of 
liquid  peach  bloom,  the  Chocolate  range 
is  sublimated  into  liquid  rose-madder,  shading  down  to  vivid  pur- 
ple, while  a  range  in  the  far  distant  east  is  bathed  in  every  shade 
of  red,  from  a  tender  blush  rose  to  a  deep  and  fiery  glow. 

For  a  few  hours  our  eyes  and  senses  rest.  We  go  indoors  to 
eat  and  in  the  pleasures  of  the  table  forget  for  a  while  the  subtler 
joys  of  sight.  Then  we  step  out  of  doors  again  to  enjoy  the  cool 
of  evening,  and  in  one  great,  wonderful  moment  our  very  souls 
are  flooded  with  a  new  and  delicious  sensation.  The  moon  has 
arisen.  Its  soft,  silvery  tide  has  flowed  over  everything  and  there 
are  no  longer  any  harsh  mountains,  any  barren,  desolate  desert. 
All  is  sublimated,  transfused  into  a  dream  of  calm,  quiet,  alluring 
beauty,  that  seems  to  steal  into  one's  being  through  every  sense 


Yuma  woman 


Desert  Surprises 


41 


avenue.  Nostrils,  ears,  touch,  the  pores  of  the  skin,  as  well  as 
eyes,  take  their  dole  of  the  prodigal  wealth  scattered  broadcast 
from  nadir  to  zenith  and  which  has  left  nothing  of  earth  untouched, 
and  the  soul  itself  seems  to  gently  fall  into  a  delicious  restfulness 
that  is  a  foretaste  of  the  peace  of  heaven. 

A  perennial  source  of  surprise  even  to  the  desert  habitant 
are  the  marvelous  varieties  and  the  peculiarities  of  the  tree  and 
plant  life:  the  palo  verde,  that  wonderful  prickly  "green  stick" 
tree,  which  has  no  leaves,  only  thorns,  and  yet  which  blossoms  out 
in  season  into  a  gold  more  rich  and  gorgeous  than  Solomon's  tem- 
ple robes  ;  the  smoke  tree  that,  from  a  casual  look,  may  readily  be 
taken  for  the  ascending  smoke  from  a  camper's  fire;  the  mesquite, 

full   of  thorns, 
laden  with  mis- 
tletoe of  richest 
browns  and 


The  smoke  tree  (Dalea  spinosa) 


greens  and  reds,  and  that  also  has  a  wealth  of  blossoms  ;  the 
thousand  and  one  varieties  of  cactus,  each  possessing  its  own 
colors ;  the  creosote  bush  everywhere  present,  and  in  the  late 
winter  one  of  the  most  beautiful  shrubs  I  have  ever  seen,  clothed 
in  a  rich,  waxy,  deep  green,  enlivened  with  its  yellow  blossoms 
and  pure  white,  fluffy,  cotton-like  seed  pods.  Then  the  desert 
willow,  that  anomaly  of  desert  plants,  —  a  water  plant  residing 
on  the  desert, — with  its  soft  green  leaves  and  its  beautiful  flow- 
ers, what  a  surprise  it  is!  To  be  riding  up  a  narrow  canyon 
with  bare  walls  of  solid  and  ragged  rock  on  each  side  of  you,  a 
few  shrubs  and  plants  scattered  here  and  there  on  the  "floor"  of 
the  canyon  as  you  journey,  and  then,  suddenly,  to  find  a  rich  green 
tree,  covered   with    beautiful   white,  pink,  and   purple   blossoms, 


42  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

is  like  meeting  a  desert  friend  in  the  crowded  streets  of  a  city 
of  high  walls  and  hot  stones. 

I  have  often  wished  I  had  been  present  to  observe  the  surprise 
and  delight  that  must  have  come  over  the  first  European  traveler 
who  discovered  the  palms  of  the  desert.  How  he  must  have  thrilled! 
Even  to-day  I  never  catch  sight  of  the  groves  in  the  foot-hills  to 
the  northeast  of  Indio,  and  see  the  stately  fringed  leaves  swaying 
and  tossing  in  the  breeze,  but  a  sensation  comes  over  me  as  if 
I  had  suddenly  been  picked  up  in  an  air  chariot  and  whirled 
away  to  some  new  land.  Then,  when  one  finds  them  in  the  can- 
yons, and,  stranger  still,  right  out  in  the  heart  of  the  desert,  he 
begins  to  feel  an  affection  for  them  that,  once  rooted  in  one's 
heart,  can  never  be  effaced. 

Another  great  surprise  connected  with  the  plant  life  of  the 
desert  is  the  way  in  which  the  flowers  and  Bermuda  grass  come 
up  after  the  rains.  There  will  be  no  indication  of  either  literally 
for  years,  —  neither  a  flower  nor  a  blade  of  grass.  Then,  sud- 
denly, a  shower  will  come,  and  as  if  by  magic  flowers  and  grass 
appear.  Where  have  the  seeds  been  all  these  quiescent  years  ? 
What  has  preserved  them  ?  How  have  they  retained  their 
vitality  ? 

Of  the  wealth  of  the  desert  flowers  I  have  written  elsewhere,  as 
also  of  the  marvelous  growths  of  planted  trees  and  fruiting  plants. 
The  way  gardens  and  orchards  spring  up  when  intelligence  guides 
their  planting  and  the  proper  handling  of  the  soil  and  water  in 
irrigation  form  the  subject  of  a  complete  chapter,  and  yet  even 
there  not  a  hundredth  part  of  the  story  is  told.  From  the  wild 
plants  of  the  desert  that  seem  to  be  bleached  by  the  heat  of  the 
tropical  sun,  to  the  rich  green  of  a  fig  tree  and  vine,  each  of  which 
I  have  seen  bearing,  the  first  in  the  second  year  after  planting, 
and  the  latter  three  months  after,  the  whole  of  the  verdant  life  of 
the  desert  is  a  matter  of  surprise,  and  the  more  you  know  of  it  the 
more  wonderful  does  it  become.  Think  of  vast  crops  of  Ber- 
muda onions,  sweet  potatoes,  oranges,  grapes,  figs,  pomegranates, 
almonds,  dewberries,  strawberries,  and  car-loads  of  watermelons 
and  Rocky  Ford  cantaloupes  being  shipped  from  the  desert. 
Look  at  the  groves  of  date-palms  rapidly  coming  to  maturity 
and  telling  of  the  time  when  the  whole  United  States  will  be  sup- 


Desert  Surprises 


43 


plied  with  this  rich  and  delicious  table  delicacy  from  this  region 
alone  and  then  ask  of  the  desert,  "Is  not  this  a  surprise  ?" 

Nor  is  this  all!  The  speed  with  which  trees  and  plants  mature 
and  the  early  ripening  of  the  fruit  are  never-ending  sources  of 
surprise  even  to  me,  who,  ere  this,  I  suppose  should  have  learned 
to  get  over  being  surprised.  But  to  see  fig  trees  three  years  old 
that  are  as  large  as  trees  elsewhere  would  be  accounted  large 
after  ten  years'  growth,  and  to  see  grape-vines,  planted  as  cuttings, 
at  three  months  old  bearing  bunches  of  grapes  weighing  two  and 

three  pounds  still  affect  me 
with  great  surprise 
each  time  I 
witness 
them. 


An  artesian  well  on  the  desert 


And  the  greatest  wonder  of  it  all  is  the  presence  of  the  one 
indispensable  thing  that  makes  it  possible,  —  water.  A  few  years 
ago  water  was  scarcely  to  be  found  on  the  desert.  Then  the 
railway  bored  a  well.  That  one  boring  changed  the  whole  char- 
acter of  a  part  of  the  desert  as  by  magic.  It  was  a  flowing  artesian 
well.  Since  then  scores  of  such  wells  have  been  bored  and  all 
throughout  the  Coachella  Valley,  down  as  far  as  the  Salton  Sea, 
millions  of  gallons  are  flowing  away  unused.  Boston,  Wash- 
ington, New  York  City,  with  all  their  wealth,  do  not  enjoy  such 
a  marvelous  flow  of  water  as  does  this  part  of  the  "desert." 

Of  course  I  remember  that  in  the  canyons  and  elsewhere  there 


44 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


Chuckwalla  with  banded  tail 


were  hot  and  cold  springs,  but  these,  strange  though  they  were, 

excited  not  a  thousandth   part  of  the  surprise  that   the  ordinary 

observer  experiences  when,  for  the  first  time,  he  realizes  the  vast 

flow  of  water  the  artesian  wells  of  the  desert  afford. 

Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  this  surprise  in  itself  a  source 

of  surprise  ?     Why  should  there  not  be  vast  quantities  of  water 

underlying  the  desert  ? 
With  Mounts  San  Ja- 
cinto, San  Bernardino, 
and  San  Gorgonio  close 
at  hand,  all  of  them  cov- 
ered with  snow  through- 
out the  whole  year  and 

thus  acting  as  feeders  of  inexhaustible  underground  reservoirs,  it 

would  be  surprising  indeed  if  none  of  this  found  its  way  into  the 

bottom  of  the  desert  bowl  by  their  side. 

With  water  outflowing  in  half  a  thousand  wells  and  producing 

richest  verdure  and  sweetest  fruits  one  might  naturally  expect  a 

large  number  of  birds,  and  yet  their  presence  is  a  never-ending 

surprise.     In   number  of   varieties,   and  the    sweetness  of   their 

songs,  even  the  ornithologist  is  surprised.    As  for  the  intelligent  (?) 

Eastern  observers  who  go  away  and  spread  abroad  the  false  report 

that  the  birds  of  California  have  no  songs,  I 

should  like  to  award  them  no  severer  penalty 

than  to  compel  them  to  listen,  as  I  have  done, 

to  the  bubbling  fountain  of  song 

that  wells    up   from   our   desert 

mocking-birds,    the    "pip,    pip, 

pip,"  of   the    quail,    the    gentle 

piping  of  the  canyon  wren,  the 

sweet  singing  of  the  linnets,  the 

"fine    careless   rapture"  of    the 

meadow  larks,  the  fairy  notes  of 

the   humming-birds,   the    saucy 

scolding  of  the  jays,  and  the  harsh  call  of  the  bluebirds, —  all  of 

which  may  be  heard   in  one  day  on  the  Colorado  Desert. 

Nor  does  this  take  into  account  the  vast  numbers  of  aquatic 

birds  found  on  the  flats  of  the  Cc'orado  River  and  the  Salton  Sea, 


Tarantidas 


Desert  Surprises 


45 


the  millions  of  ducks,  geese,  herons,  cranes,  swans,  and  pelicans, 
none  of  which  one  would  expect  to  find  in  such  a  desert  region. 
The  animal  life  of  the  desert,  too,  affords  one  plenty  of  surprises, 
for  not  only  are  there  the  coyote,  the  fox,  the  badger,  the  gopher, 
the  chipmunk,  the  wildcat  and  the  field-mouse,  but  we  find   the 

cunning  trade  rat  that  takes 
away  from  one's  residence 
some  article,  but  always 
leaves  a  stick  for  each  ob- 
ject taken  (hence  his  name), 
the  antelope,  the  deer,  the 
mountain  sheep  or  bighorn, 
—  which  is  growing  more 
scarce  each  year  in  theUnited 
States, —  and  the  brave  and 
powerful  mountain  lion.  Add  to  these  the  various  reptiles,  such 
as  the  gila  monster,  the  rattlesnake,  the  side-winder,  the  chuck- 
walla,  the  lizard,  the  desert  tortoise,  and  the  horned  toad,  and 
such  insects  as  the  tarantula,  the  scorpion,  the  centipede,  and  a 
score  of  other  strange  "bugs"  that  now  and  again  catch  the  eye, 
and  one  feels  that  in  the  animal  life  alone  he  has  enough  for  the 
study  of  a  lifetime. 

To  say  that  one  might  step  out  from  his  back  door  and  in  a  few 
minutes  pick  up  in  his  hands  twenty-two  fine,  large,  edible  fish 
would  be  regarded  as  a  surprising  statement  for 


Desert  tortoise,  side  view 


any  locality.      But  when  it  is  asserted  of  the 
heart  of  the  Colorado  Desert  it  becomes 
almost  unbelievable.     Yet  it  is  literally 
true.     On  the  last  Saturday  of  March, 
1906,  a  rancher  near  Mecca  actually 
picked  up  twenty-two  fish,  one  of  which 
I   took   to  Professor   C.  F.  Holder  of 
Pasadena  for  identification.     I  account 
for  the  presence  of  these  fish  as  fol- 
lows:   During  the   outpouring  of  the 

Colorado  River  into  the  old  Alamo  channel  many  of  the  fish  of 
the  river  found  their  way  into  the  Salton  Sea.  In  March  of  1906, 
the  rainfall  in  the  San  Bernardino  Mountains  being  excessive,  the 


Homed  toad  (Phrynosoma 
platyrhino,  Girard) 


46  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

lower  portion  of  the  Whitewater  River  carried  quite  a  stream 
to  the  Salton  Sea.  The  fish,  coming  in  contact  with  the  purer, 
colder  water  of  the  Whitewater,  naturally  followed  it  and  thus, 
when  the  unusual  flow  subsided,  they  were  caught  in  a  natural 
trap,  caused  by  a  pocket  in  the  stream  which  retained  water  after 
the  course  elsewhere  had  dried  out. 

One  of  the  young  men  of  the  household,  out  shooting  rats, 
mice,  gophers,  etc.,  at  dusk,  heard  a  peculiar  noise  in  the  bushes 
behind  him,  and  seeing  nothing,  on  hearing  it  again  fired  blindly 
in  the  direction  of  the  noise.  In  the  dim  light  he  could  find 
nothing  that  he  had  shot,  but  going  to  the  spot  the  next  morning 
he  found  three  fish  killed  by  his  gun.  Thus  the  presence  of  the 
fish  was  discovered  and  the  other  twenty-two  captured. 

The  Indians  are  full  of  surprises.    To  see  them  hard  working, — 

men  and  women  alike, —  self- 
v^H^     l5^%  respecting,     sober,     diligent, 

attentive  to  their  own  busi- 
ness, reverent  churchgoers, 
faithful  husbands  and  wives, 
loving  parents,  dutiful  chil- 
dren, respectful  citizens, some 

An  Indian  " kisli"  with  of  them  fi^t-class   farmers, 

granary  on  roof  good  mechanics,  and  skilled 

laborers,  and  the  women  fine 
basket-makers,  is  to  be  filled  with  surprise.  Then  when  one  hears 
them  tell  their  folk-lore  stories,  sees  them  in  their  fire-dance,  listens 
to  their  songs  of  creation,  a  single  rendition  of  which  requires  three 
all-night  sessions,  his  surprise  is  increased  to  wonder. 

I  suppose  I  ought  not  to  be  surprised  at  the  Salton  Sea,  yet  it  is 
one  of  the  most  wonderful  things  the  whole  desert  presents  to  me. 
Each  time  I  see  it,  and  every  day  I  am  upon  it,  or  travel  on  its 
shores,  or  see  it  from  the  far-away  mountains,  it  awakens  the  deep- 
est emotions  ot  surprise.  A  sea  upon  the  desert!  A  sea  in  the 
heart  of  a  blistering,  scorching  region  of  sand!  Who  can  help 
being  surprised,  if  his  brain  is  habituated  to  thought  ?  The  won- 
der of  it!  The  strangeness  of  it!  The  beauty  of  it!  The  majesty 
of  it!     The  novelty  of  it! 

It  is  all  very  well  to  account  for  its  existence  (as  I  have  most 


Desert  Surprises  47 

clearly  done  in  the  chapter  devoted  to  the  subject),  but  none  the 
less  the  wonder  and  surprise  remain.  It  is  an  anomaly,  a  physio- 
graphic anachronism,  unexpected  and  for  which  the  mind  wTill  not 
be  prepared,  and  to  which  it  will  not  become  accustomed.  And 
how  glad  I  am  that  there  are  some  things  to  which  I  cannot  become 
blase.  To  keep  one's  emotions  and  sensations  of  body,  mind,  and 
soul  alert  and  awake,  sensitive  and  receptive,  is  to  live,  and  to  live 
abundantly.  May  I  ever  be  kept  from  the  mental  attitude  that 
refuses  to  be  surprised,  that  declines  to  yield  to  wonder,  that  re- 
gards enthusiasm  and  emotion  with  disfavor. 

One  never  gets  over  the  clarity  of  the  atmosphere  of  the  desert, 
its  purity  and,  better  than  all,  its  healing  quality  to  those  whose 
lungs  or  bronchial  tubes  are  diseased.  The  healing  power  of  the 
desert  is  one  of  its  happy  surprises.  To  see  a  man  of  mental  power 
and  activity,  capable  of  long  and  continued  service  to  his  fellow 
man,  anxious  to  work,  well  equipped  for  it  in  everyway,  smitten  by 
disease  and  in  a  few  short  months  brought  to  a  state  of  physical 
emaciation  and  exhaustion,  mental  inertness  and  spiritual  qui- 
escence, is  to  be  filled  with  sadness  and  sometimes  with  de- 
spair. But  to  see  this  poor,  decrepit  creature,  with  one  foot 
apparently  in  the  grave,  and  the  other  rapidly  following  its 
fellow,  brought  upon  the  desert,  and  there  wrapped  around 
day  and  night  with  the  healing  power  of  the  sun-laden  atmos- 
phere, subject  to  the  direct  vivification  of  sun,  wind,  and  dry 
air,  and  then  to  watch  his  sure  recovery  to  health,  strength, 
courage,  power,  and  usefulness,  —  this  is  to  rejoice  and  be  glad; 
this  is  to  glorify  God  for  this  His  wonder  garden  of  health.  And 
I  have  seen  this  so  often  in  the  past  twenty-five  years;  I  myself  have 
shared  in  its  joys.  Is  it  not  a  surprise  to  enjoy,  to  see  the  dying 
brought  back  to  life,  to  see  despair  driven  back  by  renewed  cour- 
age, to  hear  the  lamentations  of  friends  change  to  rejoicings,  and 
then  to  catch  echoes  from  the  great  outside  world  of  business,  lit- 
erature, art,  science,  and  statesmanship  of  the  manly  work  done  by 
those  who  but  a  few  short  months  before  were  brought  to  the 
desert  as  almost  ready  for  their  graves  ?  Yes,  indeed,  the  wonder- 
ful restorations  to  health  are  among  the  greatest  and  most-to-be- 
desired  of  the  surprises  of  the  desert,  and  they  will  grow  in  number 
and  power  as  the  friends  of  the  sick  learn  to  send  their  ailing  loved 


48 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


ones  earlier  to  this,  place  of  recuperation,  renewed  strength,  and 
new  life. 

In  concluding  this  necessarily  hasty  and  cursory  survey  of  some 
of  the  surprises  of  the  desert  it  seems  to  me  that  one  of  the  greatest 
surprises  of  all  is  the  ignorance  of  well-informed  people  that  the 
desert  contains  so  many  surprises.  Yes,  critic,  I  see  the  Hiberni- 
anism  of  the  remark,  but  I  am  willing  to  let  it  go.  We  are  a  men- 
tally alert  nation  in  some  lines,  yet  in  others  we  are  asleep  and 
inert.  The  desert  has  been  here  for  ages,  was  here  waiting  for  us 
to  know  and  understand  when  we  first  took  possession  of  it.  Why 
have  we  so  neglected  it,  so  flouted  it,  so  steadily  refused  to  cultivate 
its  acquaintance  ?  Is  it  to  the  honor  of  any  man  that  he  refuses  the 
acquaintance  of  one  who  quietly  and  calmly  offers  him  every  oppor- 
tunity for  personal  association,  and  who  later,  by  another,  is  dis- 
covered to  be  most  worthy,  noble,  and  exalted  ? 

The  desert  is  the  friend  of  man.  It  is  full  to  overflowing  of  bless- 
ings. It  is  no  mere  fiction  to  call  it  "the  Garden  of  Allah."  To 
you,  my  dear  reader,  it  calls  and  says  :  "Come  to  me,  know  me,  lean 
on  my  heart,  and  you  shall  gain  new  power,  strength,  courage,  and 
wisdom.     You  shall  learn,  as  never  before,  the  way  of  life." 


Idyllwild,  in  San  Jacinto  Mountains 


The  Rivers  of  the  Desert 


49 


CHAPTER    IV 


The  Rivers  of  the  Desert 

HE  chief  river  of  the  desert  is  the  Colorado. 
Though  I  do  not  forget  the  wonderful  interest 
l~  caused  by  the  explorations  of  Major  J.  W.  Pow- 
ell, which  made  the  Grand  Canyon  system  of 
the  Colorado  River  known  to  the  world,  I  venture 
the  assertion  that  never  before  has  the  interest  of 
man  been  so  centered  on  the  Colorado  River  as  it 
[g.  is  to-day.  The  government  is  spending  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  dollars  in  constructing  the  Lacuna 
Dam,  a  few  miles  above  Yuma,  which  is  to  supply 
water  for  irrigation  to  thousands  of  acres  in  Ari- 
zona. The  California  Development  Company,  five 
years  ago,  cut  into  its  banks  on  the  California  side,  diverted 
water  into  the  old  channel  of  the  Alamo  River,  and  conveyed  it  to 
the  so-called  Imperial  Valley  (a  portion  of  the  Colorado  Desert 
below  sea-level),  poured  it  into  scores  of  miles  of  canals  and  thus 
distributed  it  to  thousands  of  acres  of  thirsty  lands  which  merely 
awaited  its  coming  to  blossom  as  the  rose  and  produce  with  mar- 
velous fecundity,  and  thus  give  homes  to  nearly  twelve  thousand 
people,  with  room  for  hundreds  of  thousands  more.  Owing  to 
careless  construction  in  the  head-gate  of  this  irrigation  system, 
which  caused  the  silting  up  of  the  canal  and  a  consequent  shortage 
of  water,  another  harmless-looking  cut  was  made  in  the  Colorado's 
bank,  below  the  Mexican  line,  in  1905,  and  surprised  by  unex- 
pected floods  this  small  cut  has  widened  until  it  is  now  nearly  a 
mile  across,  and  through  it  is  pouring  the  whole  of  the  waters  of 
the  Colorado,  gathered  in  Utah,  Wyoming,  Colorado,  New  Mexico, 
Nevada,  Arizona,  and  California,  so  that  the  bed  of  the  river  below 
this  cut  to  the  Gulf  of  California,  a  distance  of  some  one  hundred 
and  thirty-five  miles,  is  as  dry  as  a  board.     And  this  water,  un- 

Vol.  I.  — 4 


50  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

tamed  and  uncontrolled,  has  remade  two  almost  forgotten  rivers, 
the  New  and  the  Alamo;  has  partially  washed  away  two  towns, 
Mexicali  and  Calexico;  has  entirely  flooded  and  destroyed  the 
town  and  salt-works  of  Salton;  has  refilled  the  sink  of  the  Salton 
until  it  is  now  an  inland  sea,  nearly  fifty  miles  long,  and  five  to 
twenty  miles  wide;  has  flooded  and  carried  away  forty  miles  of 
the  track  of  the  Southern  Pacific  railway,  compelling  the  com- 
plete abandonment  and  rebuilding  on  a  higher  level  of  that  distance 
of  railway;  and  is  now  threatening  (at  this  present  moment  of 
writing,  July  9,  1906)  the  recently  moved  tracks  so  that  engineers 
are  determining  where  they  shall  be  placed  if  the  inpouring  of  the 
waters  cannot  be  stopped.  The  unusual  continuance  of  flood 
waters  in  the  Colorado  has  been  Nature's  positive  refusal  to  allow 
man  —  the  most  competent  and  skilled  that  money  and  science 
can  command  —  to  fill  up  the  once  harmless-looking  cut  in  the 
Colorado  bank,  so  that  boards  of  noted  engineers  of  the  United 
States,  Mexico,  Southern  Pacific,  California  Development  Com- 
pany and  others,  officially  and  unofficially,  have  gravely  studied 
the  matter  as  one  of  international  and,  indeed,  world-wide  impor- 
tance. 

These,  then,  are  some  of  the  reasons  for  the  wide-spread  interest 
in  the  Colorado  River,  the  Nile  of  America,  altogether  leaving 
out  of  consideration  the  fact  that  if  the  flood  does  not  cease 
the  twelve  thousand  inhabitants  of  the  Imperial  Valley,  with 
their  orchards,  farms,  ranches,  and  stock  ranges  and  their  towns 
of  Imperial,  Brawley,  Calexico,  Mexicali,  Holtville,  Heber,  El 
Centro,  and  Silsbee  and  the  towns  of  Mecca,  Thermal,  Coachella, 
and  Indio,  with  the  Indian  villages  of  Martinez,  Agua  Dulce, 
and  Torres  in  the  Coachella  Valley  will  be  submerged  as  was 
Pharaoh's  army  in  the  Red  Sea. 

With  these  facts  and  fears  connected  with  it  there  is  no  wonder 
that  the  Colorado  River  is  now  the  most  observed  fiver  of  the 
world. 

Of  the  history  of  the  discovery  of  the  river  by  Alarcon  from 
the  Gulf  of  California,  and  Cardenas  from  the  rim  of  the  Grand 
Canyon,  the  explorations  of  Padre  Garces,  Hardy,  and  Ives,  the 
adventures  upon  it  of  trappers  and  prospectors,  the  scientific 
and  determinative  explorations  of  Powell  and  Stanton,  and  the 


The  Rivers  of  the  Desert 


51 


latter-day  navigations  of  it  by  Captains  Polhamus  and  Mellen, 
I  have  not  now  space  to  write. 

Elsewhere  I  have  shown  how  it  has  been  the  carrier  of  all  the 
sand  and  silt  that  have  made  the  Mohave  and  Colorado  Deserts, 
and  how  it  is  now  filling  up  the  Gulf  of  California  so  that,  in  ages 
yet  to  come,  new  deserts  will  appear  where  now  tides  and  bores 
play  havoc  with  the  sand-bars  and  help  distribute  them  to  make 
way  for  more. 

It  is  an  uncertain  river,  is  the  Colorado.     Generally  it  runs 

quietly  and  sluggishly  through  the  desert  from  about  the  end  of 

July  to  the  end  of  November,  when  the  winter 

rains  begin.     After  a  month  or  two  of  higher 


Tlie  author's  boat 


water,  it  sinks  back  again  to  a  low  level  until  about  the  middle  of 
May  when  the  snows  begin  to  melt  in  the  far-away  mountains 
where  the  winds  have  carried  the  moisture  during  the  winter. 
Then  for  over  two  months  (as  a  rule)  the  sleepy,  sluggish  giant 
is  roused  to  an  activity  that  is  demoniac  in  its  power  and  blind, 
undirected,  uncontrollable  fury. 

Few  rivers  have  such  a  life-history  as  the  Colorado.  Rising 
in  the  snowy  peaks  of  the  mountains,  the  trickling  rivulets  of  the 
purest  water  of  earth,  distilled  from  perpetual  snow-banks,  unite 
to  form  rills;  these  in  turn  unite  and  make  rivulets;  the  rivulets 
unite  and  form  the  creeks  that  empty  into  small  Alpine  lakes. 


52  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

There  are  two  rivers  that  join  to  form  the  Colorado, —  the  Grand 
and  the  Green.  The  sources  of  the  Grand  are  in  these  Alpine 
lakes  five  or  six  miles  west  of  Long's  Peak.  As  the  small  creeks 
pour  their  waters  into  the  lakes,  they  overflow  and  discharge 
into  a  common  reservoir  known  as  Grand  Lake.  Towering 
clifFs  and  crags  of  granite  mark  its  eastern  shore,  and  stately 
pines  and  firs  occupy  its  western  margin,  all  of  which  are  reflected 
on  its  pure  and  placid  surface. 

Green  River  heads  in  the  Wind  River  Mountains  of  Wyoming, 
near  Fremont's  Peak.  Small  Alpine  lakes  by  the  thousand 
contribute  each  its  quota  to  Green  River,  which  being  larger 
than  the  Grand  is  regarded  as  the  upper  continuation  of  the 
Colorado.  The  source  of  the  Grand  is  in  latitude  400  17'  and 
longitude  1050  43'  approximately.  '  The  source  of  the  Green  is  in 
latitude  430  15'  and  longitude  1090  54'  approximately.  The 
mouth  of  the  Colorado  is  in  latitude  310  53'  and  longitude  1 1 50. 
From  the  source  of  the  Green  to  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado  it  is 
two  thousand  miles.  The  area  drained  by  the  Colorado  is  about 
eight  hundred  miles  long  and  varies  in  width  from  two  hundred 
to  five  hundred  miles.  It  contains  about  three  hundred  thousand 
square  miles,  a  territory  larger  than  all  the  New  England  and 
Middle  States  with  Maryland,  Virginia,  and  West  Virginia  added, 
or  nearly  as  large  as  the  five  great  states  of  Minnesota,  Wisconsin, 
Iowa,  Illinois,  and  Missouri  combined. 

More  than  two-thirds  of  the  length  of  the  Colorado  and  Green 
Rivers  pass  through  a  mountainous  or  plateau  region  where 
the  water  is  as  pure  and  sweet  and  fresh  as  mountain  snow  water 
generally  is.  From  under  the  snow  it  flows ;  then  over  the  rocks, 
jumping,  splashing,  sparkling,  murmuring  and  "guggling"  like 
a  happy  child.  Now  in  the  form  of  rapids,  then  in  cascades, 
or  falls,  churned  and  dashed  into  foam,  or  flowing  along  in  smooth, 
rocky  channels  with  nothing  but  gentle  lappings  and  sighings, 
sung  over  by  the  lark,  vireo,  linnet,  and  sparrow,  and  bathed 
in  by  the  little  folk  of  the  earth  and  air,  watched  over  by  sweet- 
scented  roses  and  larkspur  and  lilies,  and  shaded  by  the  beautiful 
foliaged  poplars,  quaking  aspens,  sycamores,  alders,  and  cotton- 
woods,  it  flows  merrily  and  laughingly  along.  New  streams  add 
their  pellucid  waters  to  it  and  it  grows  in  power  and  volume 


The  Rivers  of  the  Desert 


53 


until  it  is  a  river  of  size  and  power,  a  stream  of  dignity  and  ap- 
pearance. Then  it  enters  the  canyon  region,  where  it  has  its 
own  definite  waterway  cut  by  the  corrasion,  erosion,  and  battlings 
of  the  centuries  into  massive  cliffs  that  are  the  wonder  and  ad- 
miration of  the  world.  Flaming  Gorge,  Horseshoe  Canyon, 
Kingfisher  Canyon,  Canyon  of  Lodore,  Echo  Canyon,  Whirl- 
pool Canyon,  Split  Mountain  Canyon,  Canyon  of  Desolation, 
Gray  Canyon,  Labyrinth  Canyon,  Stillwater  Canyon,  Cataract 
Canyon,  Gypsum  Canyon,  Narrow  Canyon,  Glen  Canyon,  and 


MOUTH 

OF  THE 

COLORADO  RIVER 

Copied  from  a  sketch  by 
Lieutenant  Derby  in  1850 


Marble  Canyon  are  names  which  suggest  the  pathway  of  the 
river  before  the  Grand  Canyon  is  reached.  Of  the  Grand  Canyon 
I  have  elsewhere  written  fully.1  It  is  confessedly  the  most 
stupendous  and  awe-inspiring  piece  of  natural  scenery  now  known 
to  man. 

Below  the  Grand  Canyon,  which  terminates  at  the  Grand 
Wash,  there  are  Iceberg  Canyon,  Virgin  Canyon,  Boulder  Canyon, 
Black    Canyon,    Painted    Canyon,  and    Pyramid    Canyon    before 

1  In  and  Around  the  Grand  Canyon  of  the  Colorado  River  in  Arizona,  346  pages, 
too  illustrations. 


54  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

the  river  enters  the  desert  portion  of  its  pathway  just  above  Fort 
Mohave.  And  what  a  change  is  here!  During  all  these  miles 
of  canyon  travel  the  river  has  been  the  most  impetuous,  unre- 
strained, untamable,  and  powerful  of  American  rivers.  It  has 
dashed  noisily  along — not  rolled  but  dashed  along  with  irre- 
sistible force,  over  roaring  rapids  and  long  cascades,  with  clash 
and  roar  keeping  up  its  ceaseless  warfare  against  the  rocks  that 
enslave  and  confine  it.  For  centuries  the  battle  has  raged, —  a 
conflict  never  at  rest  for  a  moment.  Though  whipped  into  foam, 
dashed  into  bubbles,  churned  into  froth,  splashed  into  yeast 
and  shattered  into  mist,  it  has  kept  up  its  leaping,  beating,  strik- 
ing, and  worrying,  cutting  into  and  undermining  the  cliffs  and 
springing  upon  them  with  incalculable  power  and  fury  when, 
broken  and  shattered,  they  fell  into  the  trough  below.  Ah!  what 
battles  the  sun  and  moon  have  witnessed  as,  in  their  silent  and 
stately  marches,  they  have  looked  down  over  this  region  of  canyon 
and  gorge. 

Then  the  mountains  to  the  north  burst  forth  with  melted  tor- 
rents of  fiery  lava  which  flowed  to  the  side  of  the  canyon  and  over 
into  the  trough  where  a  new  conflict  began.  Water  and  molten 
rock!  What  a  struggle;  what  a  seething  and  boiling  and  hissing! 
But  the  river  won.  It  was  not  to  be  defeated.  The  fiery  lava 
was  changed  into  cold  stone,  and  pillars  and  coatings  of  it  now 
stand  and  line  the  canyon  walls  while  the  unconquered  and  un- 
conquerable river  still  rolls  on  as  it  has  done  for  countless  centuries. 

Now  the  end  of  its  warfare  has  come.  It  has  reached  the 
desert.  There  are  no  more  rocks  to  battle  with.  It  has  demon- 
strated its  supremacy.  It  is  growing  old.  So  like  a  lazy  giant 
it  stretches,  and  sprawls,  and  creeps  sleepily  along,  heavily, 
sullenly,  and  so  silently,  that  one  might  not  know  it  were  there 
did  he  not  hear,  now  and  again,  the  splash  of  a  jumping  fish  or 
the  boiling  up  of  an  undercurrent.  Laden  with  silt  and  sand, 
caused  by  the  grinding  of  the  millions  of  tons  of  rock  that  have 
fallen  into  its  canyon  path,  it  moves  heavily.  Most  of  these  rocks 
contain  red  oxidizations  which  have  colored  the  water  until  it 
is  a  peculiar  red,  and  Colorado  means  red.  Though  the  old  con- 
quistadores  named  and  renamed  the  river,  Alarcon  calling  it 
the  Rio  de  Buena  Guia  (the  river  of  good  guidance),  from  the 


The  Rivers  of  the  Desert  55 

Viceroy  Mendoza's  motto ;  Diaz,  the  Rio  del  Tizon,  from  the 
habit  of  the  natives  of  carrying  about  with  them  firebrands  to  keep 
themselves  warm  in  the  chill  autumn  air,  it  zuas  and  is  the  Colorado, 
because  it  was  and  is  the  Colorado,  the  red,  both  in  walls  and 
water.  Whatever  other  colors  are  there  the  red  predominates, 
twenty  to  one,  hence  no  one  can  question  the  appropriateness 
of  the  name. 

The  sand  and  silt  carried  down  are  what  have  made  the  desert. 
Only  such  a  river,  with  its  origin  at  a  tremendous  elevation  above 
its  mouth,  could  have  had  the  carrying  capacity  to  bring  down 
such  a  vast  amount  of  deposit  as  has  this  river.  When  we  watch 
the  processes  of  man  in  removing  earth,— the  plow  and  the 
scraper  being  his  implements,  or  even  the  steam  shovel  and  the 
dredger,  —  and  consider  how  slowly  and  on  what  a  small  scale  he 
works,  we  begin  to  realize  the  gigantic  power  of  natural  forces. 
Nowhere  are  these  more  apparent  than  in  the  carrying  ability 
of  the  waters  of  the  Colorado.  I  have  seen  a  mass  of  sand  and 
silt  over  a  mile  long  and  from  six  to  twelve  feet  high  deposited 
in  a  few  days  during  the  flood  season,  and  the  following  season  I 
have  seen  it  carried  away  in  a  few  hours.  Because  it  works 
silently  and  is  generally  sullen  and  still,  it  must  not  be  thought 
powerless  and  always  tractable  and  gentle.  The  engineers  who, 
for  over  a  year,  have  been  trying  to  tame  it  below  Yuma,  have 
found  out  how  mistaken  such  an  idea  is.  One  by  one  their  efforts 
were  demonstrated  futile.  Piles  and  steel  cables,  mats  and 
brush  filling,  by  the  thousands  of  tons  were  whirled  away  as  if 
in  sport  and  derision.  An  island  stood  near  the  intake  of  the 
canal  of  the  California  Development  Company  less  than  six 
months  ago.  It  was  a  mile  long.  The  engineers  tried  to  anchor 
one  of  their  dams  to  it,  but  the  river  objected  and  began  to  cut 
away  the  island,  and  to-day  not  an  inch  of  it  remains.  I  have 
seen  the  engineers  of  the  Santa  Fe  railway,  near  the  Needles, 
with  great  gangs  of  men  working  day  and  night  to  prevent  the 
river  from  cutting  away  the  bluffs  upon  which  their  tracks  ran, 
and  that  a  month  before  one  would  have  declared  safe  for  a 
thousand  years  to  come,  and  yet  the  engineers  were  driven  back 
and  trains  were  held  up  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty,  forty  hours  until 
the  tracks  could  be  removed  and  replaced. 


56 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


It  is  a  silent  river,  yet  it  has  washed  out  bridges  at  Needles  and 
Yuma  and  compelled  both  railway  companies  to  seek  places 
where  their  piers  could  be  anchored  deep  in  solid  rock  and 
cement,  ere  their  new  bridges  could  bid  defiance  to  its  power. 
I  have  seen  a  monster  steamer  drift  down  with  its  current 
and  on  to  the  canal  made  by  the  overflow  and  in  two  hours 
travel  about  twenty  miles.  On  its  return  journey  it  required 
ten  hours  of  hard  battling  to  make  the  same  distance.  When  I 
rowed  down  from  Needles  to  Yuma  it  took  me  fifteen  days  (eight 
or  ten  only  of  which  were  spent  actually  on  the  river),  but  in 
flood  time  the  three  hundred  miles  have  been 
made  in  a  day  and  a  half.  So  that  even  its 
silence  and  laziness  now  that  it  is  out  in 
the  open  of  the  desert  cannot  be  de- 
pended upon.  Indeed  there  is  but  one 
thing  in  which  it  can  be  depended 
upon,  and  that  is  its  wilfulness 
and  undependableness. 

Even  to  its  dusky  children, 
the  Yumas  and  Mohaves  and 
Cocopahs,  it  is,  at  times,  a  very 
cruel  stepfather.  Time  and 
again  it  has  washed  over  their 
whole  reservation,  as  it  did  in 
1905  and  1906,  flooding  almost 
every  "  kan  "  of  the  Yumas,  and 
compelling  them  to  flee  to  the 
high  ground  for  safety.  Levees 
to  prevent  it  are  almost  useless,  for,  if  it  takes  a  mind  to  it,  in  a 
few  hours  it  will  cut  away  the  whole  country  on  which  the  levees 
are  built.  The  inhabitants  of  Calexico  and  Mexicali  found  that 
out  during  their  critical  time  in  June  and  July,  1906,  when  the  river, 
running  in  wild  flood  down  the  Alamo  and  New  Rivers  to  the  Salton 
Sea,  began  to  cut  into  their  towns.  They  used  dynamite  to  cut  out 
a  passage  for  the  mad  waters  and  tried  to  prevail  upon  them  to 
flow  in  it,  and  for  a  while  all  was  well,  and  then,  suddenly,  the 
river  took  a  destructive  streak  and  began  to  attack  the  bank 
near  the  town  of  Mexicali  and  in  a  few  hours  half  a  street  of 


Yuma  Indian 
using,  metate 


The  Rivers  of  the  Desert 


57 


houses  tumbled  into  its  turbulent  flood,  were  crushed  and  crumbled 
to  pieces  as  if  in  derision  and  scoffing,  and  in  a  few  minutes  had 
disappeared  forever. 

We  have  seen  that  the  flow  of  water  in  the  Colorado  is  a  most 
variable  quantity.  From  about  September  first  to  March  first 
of  each  year  while  the  snow  is  frozen  on  the  mountains,  except 
for  occasional  floods,  the  river  is  low,  reaching  a  minimum  flow 
of  about  four  thousand  second-feet,  or  two  hundred  thousand 
miner's  inches,  during  that  time.  A  miner's  inch  is  the  amount  of 
water  that  will  pass  in  twenty-four  hours  through  an  open- 
ing one  inch  square  under  a  pressure  of  six  inches.  In 
March  and  April  when  the  snows  begin  to  melt,  the 
river  begins  to  rise,  gradually  attaining  its  maximum, 
usually  in  June,  when  it  flows  fifty  thousand  second- 
feet,  or  two  million  five  hundred  thousand  miner's 
inches.      From  this  time  on  it  gradually  sinks  again 


Colorado  River  below  Needles  Bridge 

to  a  slow  stage  in  August  and  September.  From  time  to  time 
throughout  the  year,  especially  in  the  summer  months,  the  river 
is  subject  to  sudden  small  rises  originating  in  torrential  down- 
pours on  the  Arizona  watershed,  but  the  manner  and  character 
of  these  floods  distinguish  them  from  the  main  flow. 

So  long  as  the  Colorado  River  was  regarded  merely  as  a  river, 
a  factor  in  the  landscape,  a  natural  feature  incapable  of  serving 
man  except  as  a  means  of  transportation  and  pleasure,  the  amount 
of  sediment  it  contained  and  its  character  were  of  no  great  moment. 
But  when  it  was  determined  to  rob  the  river  of  some  of  its  flow 


58  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

and  divert  it  upon  the  land  for  purposes  of  irrigation  it  became 
a  matter  of  great  importance  to  determine  these  things.  For  upon 
the  amount  of  sediment  it  carried  many  engineering  calculations 
had  to  be  based,  and  upon  the  quality  of  the  salts  and  silts  largely 
rested  the  life  of  the  irrigated  district.  It  has  been  found  by 
expensive  experience  that  waters  containing  too  large  a  proportion 
of  common  salt  and  the  sulphates  of  sodium,  potassium,  and 
magnesium  render  the  lands  they  irrigate  useless.  To  determine 
these  matters,  therefore,  in  regard  to  the  Colorado  (and  other 
Arizona  streams),  the  Arizona  Experiment  Station,  in  1899,  began 
regularly  sampling  its  waters.  The  method  of  sampling  is  inter- 
esting. A  stoppered  tin  cylinder,  thirteen  inches  long,  two  inches 
in  diameter,  and  holding  about  one  and  one-half  pounds  of  water, 
was  slung  in  a  wooden  support  having  a  handle  by  means  of 
which  it  was  submerged  in  the  river,  from  six  inches  to  a  foot 
below  the  surface  and  with  its  mouth  upstream.  The  rubber 
stopper  was  then  pulled  out  by  means  of  a  cord  or  wire,  and  as 
soon  as  the  cylinder  was  filled  it  was  withdrawn  from  the  river 
and  instantly  emptied  into  a  demijohn.  A  number  of  daily 
samples  so  taken  were  combined  and  the  testing  of  them  took 
place  at  the  chemical  laboratory. 

Owing  to  its  great  length  and  the  rocky  canyons  through  which 
the  upper  two-thirds  of  its  flow  occurs  the  amount  of  sediment 
contained  in  the  Colorado  is  far  more  constant  than  it  is  in  such 
rivers  as  the  Bill  Williams,  the  Salt  and  the  Gila  which  receive 
the  run-off  of  watersheds  subject  to  torrential  rains.  These 
severe  rains  sweep  the  floor  of  the  desert  regions  through  which 
they  pass  and,  at  such  flood  times,  largely  determine  the  physical 
character  of  the  main  river's  sedimentation.  The  sediments  that 
are  the  result  of  canyon  erosion  form  a  dense  mud,  reddish  gray 
in  color.  These  come  in  April,  May,  and  June.  When  the 
summer  floods  come  from  such  tributaries  as  the  San  Juan,  the 
Colorado  Chiquito  (the  little  Colorado),  and  the  Havasu  the 
yellow  and  red  colors  predominate,  while,  when  the  flood  waters 
from  the  Gila  predominate,  the  Colorado  below  Yuma  sometimes 
becomes  repulsively  black. 

Conservative  estimates  show  that  in  1900  the  Colorado  River 
brought  down  not  less  than  sixty-one  million  tons  of  silt  which, 


The  Rivers  of  the  Desert  59 

condensed  into  solid  rock,  is  enough  to  cover  twenty-six  and  four- 
tenths  square  miles  a  foot  deep;  or  to  make  fifty-three  square 
miles  of  dry,  alluvial  soil  one  foot  deep;  or  to  make  about  one 
hundred  and  sixty-four  square  miles  of  recently  settled,  submerged 
mud  one  foot  deep,  reckoning  the  whole  amount  of  mud  for 
the  year  to  average  six  and  two-tenths  times  the  bulk  of  the  solid 
sediment. 

In  1903  and  1904  (September  to  August  inclusive),  ninety-five 
million  tons  of  sediment  were  carried  by  the  river  past  Yuma, 
and  this  did  not  include  the  sand  pushed  along  the  bottom.  One 
day  alone,  when  the  Gila  had  poured  a  muddy  flood  into  the 
Colorado,  one  million  eight  hundred  tons  were  carried  by.  It 
will  be  seen,  therefore,  that  this  year  far  exceeded  that  of  1 900. 
The  sediment  ol  1903  and  1904  would  have  made  a  mud  bar  ten 
feet  deep  and  approximately  twenty-five  square  miles  in  extent; 
or  about  eighty  square  miles  of  dry,  agricultural  soil  one  foot  deep. 

With  such  facts,  clearly  demonstrable,  before  us,  can  we  wonder 
at  the  reach  of  the  imagination  which  sees  in  the  Colorado  Desert 
sands  the  changed  rocks  of  thousands  of  feet  of  plateau  region 
strata,  and  that  pictures  for  the  future  the  Gulf  of  California 
converted  into  land,  irrigated  by  the  continuing  waters  of  the 
Colorado  River  which  conveyed  the  land  to  its  present  situation, 
and  thus  made  the  home  of  thousands  of  happy,  contented,  and 
prosperous  people  ?  Indeed,  to  demonstrate  the  possibility  of 
such  a  thing  becoming  an  actuality  it  may  be  stated  that  the 
boatmen  of  the  Colorado  River  familiar  with  conditions  at  the 
gulf  assert  that  during  the  past  forty  years  the  Colorado  has 
advanced  some  fifteen  miles  into  the  gulf. 

The  amount  and  weight  of  these  sediments  occasionally  pro- 
duce unexpected  and  tragic  results.  Poor  Pete  Maguire,  blind 
through  cataract,  finding  his  boat  drifting  away  from  the  bank, 
owing  to  his  companion's  carelessness,  jumped  into  the  river 
intending  to  swim  ashore.  But  so  heavy  was  the  sediment  that  it 
weighted  him  down  and  before  help  could  reach  him  he  was 
drowned. 

The  fertilizing  value  of  the  sediments  lies  mainly  in  the  amount 
of  nitrogen  they  contain,  though  potash  and  phosphoric  acid 
are  also  present.     Few  rivers  contain  so  large  a  quantity  of  the 


go  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

valuable  nitrogen.  In  this  particular  the  Colorado  is  analogous  to 
the  Nile.  Its  salts,  too,  have  a  decided  value  in  neutralizing  the 
sodium  carbonates  of  black  alkaline  lands. 

Thus  beneficent  Nature  works  good  in  two  ways.  The  irri- 
gable areas  of  the  desert  contain  large  spots  of  alkaline  lands 
which,  flooded  with  these  Colorado  River  waters,  are  leached 
out,  while  the  deposition  of  the  nitrogenous  elements  in  the  sedi- 
ments adds  needed  factors  of  nutriment. 

Of  my  own  trip  down  the  Colorado  River  from  the  Needles  to 
Yuma,  alone,  a  few  years  ago,  I  cannot  here  write,  nor  of  the 
wonders  of  the  river  below  Yuma. 

There  are  other  rivers  on  the  desert  as  well  as  the  Colorado. 
I  know  the  look  of  credulity  that  will  come  over  the  faces  of 
many  as  they  read  this  statement.  Yet  I  repeat  it.  There  are 
the  Alamo,  the  New,  the  Whitewater,  the  Carrizo,  and  the  Mec- 
caroni.  Strange  rivers,  indeed,  all  of  them,  yet  rivers  of  impor- 
tance and  interest,  and  were  they  not  strange  they  would  scarcely 
be  appropriate  to  the  desert  and  harmonious  with  the  other 
objects  found  there. 

THE     ALAMO     RIVER 

The  Alamo  is  a  prehistoric  river,  with  a  history  of  intermittent 
flow,  and  now,  in  part,  almost  as  large  and  important  as  the  Colo- 
rado. In  prehistoric  times  it  was  the  connecting  link  between 
the  Colorado  and  the  Salton  Sea.  Elsewhere  I  have  shown 
that  for  a  long  period  after  the  Salton  region  was  cut  off  from 
the  Gulf  of  California  it  must  have  been  a  fresh-water  lake.  The 
source  of  its  water  was  the  Colorado  River,  and  if  the  whole  of 
the  flow  of  the  Colorado  entered  the  Salton  Basin  then  the  channel 
we  know  as  the  Alamo  was  the  Colorado  River  of  that  day.  It 
is  by  no  means  as  unreasonable  as  it  may  seem  to  assume  that 
the  whole  of  the  Colorado  River  once  flowed  into  the  Salton. 
When  the  natural  alluvial  dam  was  thrown  up  by  the  Colorado's 
flood  waters  it  may  be  possible  that  the  dam  was  on  the  lower  or 
gulf  side  of  the  flow  and  that  the  river  thus  emptied  itself  into 
the  basin  above  the  dam.  Or  it  is  possible  to  conceive  that  the 
river  flowed  into  the  gulf  after  the  natural  dam  was  made,  and 
that  long  after  the  evaporation  of  the  isolated   gulf  waters   had 


The  Rivers  of  the  Desert  61 

taken  place,  another  flood  broke  a  channel  through  the  dam  and 
thus  allowed  the  filling  up  of  the  basin  again  with  the  fresh  water 
of  the  Colorado.  The  channel  by  which  this  was  effected  was 
the  Alamo. 

In  historic  times  there  has  been  no  constant  flow  in  the  banks 
of  the  Alamo  except,  as  I  shall  shortly  relate,  within  the  past 
five  years.  Only  when  the  Colorado  overflowed  could  the  Alamo 
be  called  a  river,  and  then  its  dignity  as  such  was  lost  in  the 
course  of  a  few  days,  or  as  soon  as  the  flood  subsided.  During 
the  Sonoranian  emigration  in  1849  and  1850  and  the  later  years  of 
the  gold  excitement  we  often  find  references  to  the  joy  of  the  weary 
travelers  in  finding  a  stream  where  they  did  not  expect  it.  This 
applied  to  both  the  Alamo  and  the  New,  wThich  had  a  similar 
history.  As  the  overflow  ceased  the  water  in  the  channel  of 
the  Alamo  subsided,  but,  as  some  portions  of  it  were  deeper  than 
others,  lagoons  would  be  formed,  which  remained  until  their 
waters  were  carried  away  by  evaporation.  These  lagoons  are 
a  frequent  source  of  happy  comment  in  the  narratives  of  the  gold 
seekers. 

When  the  engineers  of  the  California  Development  Company 
made  their  preliminary  surveys  in  order  to  determine  how  they 
could  best  convey  the  waters  of  the  Colorado  River  for  irrigation 
purposes  into  the  Imperial  Valley,  they  discovered  this  old  Alamo 
channel.  I  say  "discovered  it"  advisedly.  They  learned  for 
the  first  time  its  complete  course  and  found  that  it  connected 
with  the  Salton  Basin.  Here  then  was  a  channel  already  made, 
the  lower  end  of  which  would  serve  as  a  main  canal  to  convey  water 
to  the  region  to  be  irrigated,  and  the  upper  end  of  which  would 
act  as  a  channel  through  which  waste  waters  could  be  conveyed 
to  the  Salton  Basin.  When  the  system  was  installed  the  Alamo 
was  thus  utilized.  As  far  as  Sharps — seven  miles  east  of  Cal- 
exico — it  became  the  "main  canal."  There  head-gates  were 
put  in  which  diverted  the  water  to  the  distributing  canals,  and 
what  was  not  needed  was  allowed  to  enter  the  upper  channel  of 
the  Alamo  and  flow  to  the  Salton. 

When,  in  1905,  the  upper  part  of  the  cut  canal  leading  into  the 
Alamo  from  the  Colorado  River  was  found  to  be  silted  up,  and 
Mr.  C.  R.  Rockwood  cut  the  small  channel  from  the  Colorado, 


62  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

below  the  silted-up  canal,  to  allow  the  water  to  flow  and  thus  save 
the  farmers  of  the  Imperial  Valley  from  ruin,  he  became  the  in- 
strument of  fate  in  permitting  the  people  of  this  day  and  generation 
to  see  what  nature  itself  had  done  in  prehistoric  times,  and 
had  then  abandoned.  For,  as  is  well  known,  owing  to  unusual 
floods,  the  whole  of  the  flow  of  the  Colorado  was  soon  diverted 
through  this  cut  into  the  Alamo  channel,  and  for  several  months 
and  at  this  present  time  of  writing  (July,  1906)  there  is  no  Colorado 
River  below  the  lower  intake,  as  the  whole  of  its  waters  are  running 
by  way  of  the  Alamo  to  the  Salton  Sea. 

But  a  change  will  doubtless  soon  be  made.  The  dam  will  be 
constructed  across  the  cut,  the  head-gates  are  already  in  place,  and 
ere  this  book  is  in  the  hands  of  the  public  I  confidently  expect  to 
see  the  Colorado  restored  to  its  old,  that  is,  its  recent  historic 
channel,  and  then  the  Alamo  will  once  again  be  changed  from  its 
estate  as  a  great  river  flowing  independent  of  the  will  of  man,  work- 
ing great  injury  to  his  schemes  and  plans,  and  made  subservient  to 
that  will  as  an  irrigation  canal,  conveying  water  under  his  control 
for  the  beneficent  purposes  of  sustaining  life  and  promoting  man's 
prosperity. 

The  story  of  my  descent  of  the  Alamo  forms  an  independent  and 
later  chapter. 

NEW    RIVER 

The  first  reference  I  can  find  to  the  "New  River"  is  in  Bartlett's 
Narrative  of  Explorations  in  1850-53.  Writing  of  his  camp  at 
Alamo  Mocho  he  says:  "About  twenty-five  miles  back  from  this 
place  we  crossed  a  ravine  or  arroyo  some  twenty  or  thirty  feet  wide, 
and  about  ten  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  desert,  that  forms  the 
bed  of  what  is  known  as  'New  River.'  Three  or  four  years  ago 
this  ravine  was  filled  with  water,  as  well  as  a  large  basin  connected 
with  it.  The  water  suddenly  appeared  here,  and  by  passing  emi- 
grants was  hailed  as  a  miracle  and  direct  interposition  of  Divine 
Providence,  like  the  manna  furnished  to  the  Israelites  of  old.  This 
phenomenon  is  now  well  known  to  proceed  from  the  Colorado 
River,  which  some  years  rises  to  a  great  height,  overflowing  its 
banks  and  the  adjacent  valley,  and  sometimes  running  back 
through  lagoons  and  depressions  in  the  desert  for  many  miles.     It 


The  Rivers  of  the  Desert  63 

was  one  of  these  great  risings  of  the  river  that  caused  the  sudden 
appearance  of  the  mysterious  'New  River'  of  the  desert,  which 
remained  two  years,  and  then  dried  up.  By  similar  inundations 
the  great  basin  at  Alamo  Mocho  has  doubtless  been,  and  may 
again  be  filled.  I  was  told  by  persons  in  California  who  had 
crossed  the  desert,  that  they  had  found  pools  of  brackish  water 
several  miles  from  the  road.  These  I  presume  to  be  deeper  basins, 
where  the  water  stands  longer  than  in  the  'New  River'  or  the  dry 
basins  passed  by  us." 

Another  writer  of  about  the  same  time  asserts  the  belief  that  this 
New  River  had  its  source  in  a  lake  "which  had  bubbled  up  spon- 
taneously." 

We  now  know  that  the  modern  history  of  New  River  is  very 
similar  to  that  of  the  Alamo.  It  has  its  source,  however,  in  Vol- 
cano Lake,  a  variable  body  of  water  in  Lower  California,  some 
thirty-five  miles  southeast  of  Calexico.  This  lake  receives  water 
from  the  Colorado  by  means  of  the  Rio  Paredones,  for,  strange  to 
say,  this  "tributary" —  as  it  is  often  regarded  —  really  "taps"  the 
Colorado  and  conveys  its  waters  to  Volcano  Lake.  During  flood 
seasons  the  Paredones  not  only  supplies  Volcano  Lake,  but  spreads 
out  over  considerable  country  to  the  northward  and  contributes 
directly  to  New  River. 

Volcano  Lake  is  situated  on  a  divide  of  slight  elevation  so  that, 
while  some  of  its  waters  flow  to  the  north  by  means  of  New  River, 
the  larger  amount  flows  south  as  Hardy's  Colorado  and  empties  into 
the  gulf. 

This  was  the  normal  history  of  the  New  River  until  the  advent 
of  the  California  Development  Company.  The  plans  of  this  com- 
pany required  that  two  miles  beyond  where  the  Alamo  discharged 
its  waters  into  the  main  canal  of  the  Imperial  country,  the  main 
canal  in  turn  should  empty  its  surplusage  into  New  River,  which 
then  conveyed  it  to  the  Salton  Sea.  From  the  map  it  will  be  seen 
that  New  River  flows  in  a  general  northwesterly  direction  from 
Volcano  Lake  to  Calexico  and  Cameron  Lake,  spreading  out 
above  Silsbee  and  spasmodically  feeding  the  small  marshy  lagoons 
known  as  Blue,  Diamond,  Badger,  and  Pelican  Lakes.  Then 
curving  around  it  strikes  to  the  northeast  up  to  near  Brawley, 
where  it  irregularly  parallels  the  Alamo  River  at  about  a  mile 


64  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

distance,  and  again  curving  to  the  northwest  empties  into  the 
Salton  Sea. 

During  the  high  flood  season  of  1906  New  River  got  on  the 
rampage  and  half  wiped  out  of  existence  the  town  of  Mexicali  and 
for  many  days  kept  the  inhabitants  of  Calexico  on  the  anxious  seat. 
While  a  large  portion  of  the  flood  waters  were  turned  into  the  upper 
Alamo  at  Sharps  there  was  still  a  great  flood  that  entered  the 
main  canal.  In  addition  the  north  fork  of  the  Rio  Paredones  was 
running  full.  There  was  still  another  channel  by  which  the  flood 
waters  of  the  Colorado  entered  New  River.  On  the  map  between 
Seven  Wells  and  Sharps  will  be  seen,  on  the  south  side  of  the 
Alamo,  the  outlet  known  as  the  Beltran  Slough.  This  carries  off 
considerable  water  when  the  flood  is  high,  and  though  it  scatters 
and  "flows  wild"  over  a  large  area  of  country,  much  of  the  water 
finally  reaches  New  River.  Here,  then,  were  three  sources  con- 
spiring to  fill  up  the  stream.  Between  Sharps  and  Calexico  it  cut 
into  ranches  and  ate  them  up,  converting  the  once  fertile  fields  into 
scarred  and  gullied  flood  wastes.  Two  miles  northwest  of  Calexico 
is  Cameron  Lake,  and  as  the  flood  poured  into  it  the  bed  of  the 
river  at  the  outfall  began  to  "cut  back."  Higher  and  higher  the 
river  rose.  Levees  were  built  surrounding  the  towns,  but  the  flood 
still  rose  and  in  some  cases  washed  over  them.  On  the  thirteenth 
of  June  a  stream  was  flowing  through  the  railway  depot  at  Calexico, 
the  tank-house  was  an  island,  and  the  switch-bars  arose  above  a 
turbid  flood.  Between  the  depot  and  the  town  a  dike  or  levee  was 
built  on  which  whites  and  Indians  worked,  the  former  with  the 
energy  of  desperation,  the  latter  "like  boys  on  the  day  the  circus 
comes  to  town.  They  would  just  as  soon  rub  sticks  together  or 
dip  up  water  with  a  sieve  —  they  pile  sacks  with  just  that  much 
earnestness."  Across  from  the  railway  track,  looking  toward 
the  west,  the  river  was  fully  seven  miles  wide. 

For  nearly  a  month  this  flood  continued.  Nearly  five  thousand 
dollars  was  spent  on  the  levees  of  Mexicali  and  Calexico.  Erelong 
the  water  stood  against  these  to  a  height  of  four  feet.  About  the 
twenty-sixth  of  June,  when  the  river  began  to  "cut  back"  from 
Cameron  Lake,  it  was  thought  this  would  save  the  towns  by  deep- 
ening the  channel  and  thus  helping  drain  off  the  flood.  In  a  few 
days  this  seemed  to  be  accomplished,  for  the  water  against  the 
levees  was  drawn  off. 


The  Rivers  of  the  Desert  65 

In  forty-eight  hours  this  rejoicing  was  changed  to  fear  and  dread. 
A  small  ripple  appeared  in  the  stream  south  and  west  of  the  Mex- 
icali  depot  that  grew  rapidly.  It  soon  became  a  channel  and  the 
water  commenced  cutting  away  the  soil  with  a  rapidity  that  was  as 
astonishing  as  it  was  fearful.  For  in  a  few  hours  the  foundations 
of  the  depot  were  washed  away  and  the  building  itself  floated  off 
down  stream. 

The  adjacent  property  became  a  prey  to  the  devouring  waters, 
and  buildings  which  stood  in  its  path  were  ruthlessly  torn  from 
their  foundations  and  carried  away.  Then  came  a  lull  of  thirty- 
six  hours,  during  which  dynamite  was  resorted  to  in  an  attempt 
to  divert  the  channel. 

While  this  work  was  progressing  Nature  was  preparing  for  the 
carrying  out  of  plans  of  her  own.  A  storm  that  had  been  brooding 
over  a  section  of  country  a  thousand  miles  away  at  an  unusual 
time  of  the  year  broke  and  sent  its  flood  down  the  Colorado,  into 
the  Alamo,  down  the  Beltran  Slough  and  along  the  canal  into  the 
New  River.  The  old  channel  was  filled  with  a  rapidity  that  was 
remarkable.  Building  after  building  succumbed  to  the  action  of 
the  rushing  waters,  until  it  seemed  that  only  the  destruction  of  both 
towns  would  abate  its  fury. 

Deeper  and  deeper  the  river  cut  and  higher  and  higher  grew  the 
banks  along  its  side.  The  men  were  unable  to  cope  with  the  sit- 
uation, although  ton  after  ton  of  dynamite  was  used  in  an  attempt 
to  stay  the  destruction.  Just  as  the  water  had  washed  away  the 
first  house  of  the  group  that  remains  in  the  town  of  Calexico, 
another  change  took  place.  The  caving  in  of  the  banks  became 
infrequent  and  then  ceased. 

The  flood  had  subsided,  and  to-day,  July  10,  1906,  as  I  write, 
instead  of  a  turbulent  torrent  of  water  rushing  on  its  way  to  the 
Salton  Sea,  a  stream  about  seven  hundred  feet  wide  and  from  ten 
to  twenty  feet  deep  flows  past  the  towns,  confined  within  banks 
thirty  feet  high  and  with  a  current  of  not  more  than  six  miles  an 
hour. 

As  soon  as  the  Colorado  is  returned  to  its  original  channel 
the  flow  in  New  River  will  become  normal,  —  that  is,  it  will  be  a 
small  stream  depending  for  its  main  supply  of  water  from  Vol- 
cano Lake  and  the  surplusage  from  the  main  canal  of  the  Imperial 
system. 

Vol.  I.  — 5 


6G  The  Wonders  oi  the  Colorado  Desert 

THE    WHITEWATER    RIVER 

Although  one  might  travel  over  the  desert  many,  many  times 
and  never  see  the  Whitewater,  it  is  nevertheless  a  most  important 
desert  stream.  The  qualifying  adjective  means  much.  A  desert 
river  may  have  as  large  a  volume  of  water  as  an  ordinary  small 
Eastern  river,  but  desert  conditions  are  such  that  its  largest  volume 
may  be  underground.  The  Whitewater  heads  in  the  snow-banks 
and  cienegas  and  springs  of  the  San  Bernardino  Mountains  and 
for  a  while  flows  almost  west.  It  gives  its  name  to  the  Whitewater 
Canyon,  and  also  to  the  famous  Whitewater  Ranch  in  the  San 
Gorgonio  Pass.  This  ranch  is  now  the  property  of  the  Bear  Valley 
Water  Company.  It  was  once  one  of  the  stage  stations,  and  many 
a  weary  traveler  over  the  desert  has  almost  wept  with  joy  when  his 


The  San  Bernardino  Mountains 

eyes  rested  upon  this  exquisitely  green  oasis  —  the  first  seen  since 
crossing  the  Colorado  River.  Even  now,  old  prospectors  who 
prefer  to  travel  with  their  burros  from  the  desert  to  civilization 
eagerly  look  forward  to  reaching  the  Whitewater  Ranch.  At  White- 
water station,  after  a  heavy  rain,  or  when  the  snows  begin  to  melt, 
the  Whitewater  appears  as  a  veritable  mountain  torrent,  dashing 
down  with  roar  and  clatter  among,  around,  and  over  its  boulder- 
strewn  path.  Then,  impinging  on  one  of  the  spurs  of  the  San 
Jacinto  range,  it  turns  to  the  south  and,  hugging  the  western  moun- 
tain bases  until  it  passes  about  opposite  to  Indio,  it  turns  to  the 
southeast  and  flows  into  the  Salton  Basin. 

It  is  a  winter  stream  though  it  flows  all  the  year  in  its  upper 
reaches,  growing  less  in  volume  as  the  summer  advances.     Below 


The  Rivers  of  the  Desert  67 

Palm  Springs,  however,  during  the  summer  it  has  no  exterior  or 
apparent  flow.  It  is,  in  truth,  a  buried  river,  forming  in  large  part 
the  great  artesian  water  supply  of  the  Coachella  Valley. 

Evidences  of  the  shifting  character  of  the  lower  flow  of  the  White- 
water are  found  in  several  abandoned  beds  to  the  north  and  east. 
The  shifting  of  the  desert  sands  during  seasons  of  drought  where 
there  was  no  flow  in  the  river  bed  has  forced  it  to  the  west  and  south. 

In  the  winter  of  1905-6  the  Whitewater  seemed  to  emulate  its 
great  desert  brother,  the  Colorado.  Its  waters  poured  down, 
washed  out  the  irrigation  connections  with  Palm  Springs,  and 
dashed  down  over  the  Indio  fields  and  roads  to  all  the  towns  along 
the  railway  even  as  far  as  Mecca,  washing  out  roads,  bridges,  and 
a  few  acres  of  land.  It  was  at  this  flood  time  that  the  fish  entered 
it  from  the  Salton  Sea  as  related  in  another  chapter. 

The  Whitewater  is  the  source  of  the  irrigation  water  that  has 
done  so  much  to  reclaim  Palm  Springs.  There  is  a  constant  flow 
of  some  one  thousand  inches  which  might  be  utilized.  But  the 
ditches  and  conduits  are  not  now  in  good  condition;  a  Los  Angeles 
bank  holds  a  mortgage  on  them,  and  until  energetic  steps  are  taken 
to  restore  things  to  successful  working  order  the  priceless  flow  of 
the  Whitewater  runs  to  waste  and  the  farms  and  gardens  that  should 
have  it  suffer  from  its  loss. 

CARRIZO    CREEK 

Bartlett  says  of  Carrizo  Creek  that  it  is  "one  of  those  remarkable 
streams  which  sometimes  spring  up  in  desert  regions.  It  rises  in 
the  very  center  of  barrenness,  flows  for  about  a  mile,  and  is  again 
absorbed  by  the  desert.  It  has  worn  for  itself  a  bed  about  fifteen 
feet  below  the  plain.  It  is  from  three  to  nine  inches  in  depth,  and 
varies  from  six  feet  to  as  many  yards  in  width.  Where  the  banks 
have  been  washed  away  it  receives,  in  several  places,  accessions 
from  springs;  but  when  these  cease,  the  stream  grows  less  and  less, 
until  it  is  all  absorbed  by  the  sands." 

THE    MECCARONI    RIVER 

Water!  How  little  city  dwellers,  who  have  a  sufficiency  of 
water,  know  what  those  five  letters  stand  for  on  the  desert.     Noth- 


68  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

ing  is  so  precious  as  water;  and  yet,  strange  to  say,  on  parts  of  the 
Colorado  Desert  water  is  not  only  running  to  waste,  but  is  there  in 
such  abundance  as  to  cause  considerable  trouble.  Elsewhere  I 
have  shown  the  vast  trouble  and  expense  caused  by  the  overflow 
of  the  Colorado  River  into  the  Desert  Basin.  At  Mecca  the  ar- 
tesian wells  flow  so  freely  and  continuously  that  the  reservoirs  are 
all  full,  and  at  certain  periods  of  the  year  the  farmers  do  not  know 
what  to  do  with  the  water  save  let  it  run  where  it  will.  It  breaks 
down  the  paltry  ditch  banks,  overflows  the  roads  and  makes  travel- 
ing most  uncomfortable.  Toward  the  southeast  some  of  these 
stray  waters  gather  together,  forming  a  small  creek  which  flows  in 
an  intermittent  kind  of  way  and  finally  empties  itself  in  the  Salton 
Sea.  A  local  wag,  well  foreseeing  in  the  laxity  of  pronunciation 
of  his  neighbors  the  degeneracy  of  the  name  he  coined,  termed 
it  the  Meccaroni  River,  and  now  it  is  seriously  and  unconsciously 
spoken  of  by  every  one  as  the  Maccaroni  River.  At  times  it  is 
quite  a  respectable-looking  small  stream,  and  until  the  land  of  the 
region  is  so  cultivated  that  all  the  supply  of  water  is  needed,  it 
will  continue  to  flow  into  the  Salton  Basin. 


/ 
A  glimpse  of  San  Jacinto  Peak 


The  Mountains  of  the  Desert  69 


CHAPTER  V 

The  Mountains  of  the   Desert 


iOUNTAINS  on  the  desert  constitute  one  of  its  chief 
h$?  ,\  charms,  especially  when  to  all  their  other  sublimi- 
Y-0  ties  they  add  the  crowning  glory  of  a  cap  of  virgin 
:.r  snow.  I  shall  never  forget  the  varied  emotions  of 
pleasure,  joy,  and  adoration  that  came  over  me 
early  one  morning  as  I  got  off  the  west-bound 
train  at  Mecca.  The  name  itself,  as  the  brake- 
man  called  it  out,  was  suggestive  of  pilgrims,  date-palms,  heat, 
sand,  and  desert.  The  morning  was  crystalline  in  its  clearness 
and  cool  enough  to  be  deliciously  stimulating  to  every  nerve  of 
the  body.  One  breathed  in  the  pure,  vivifying  air  with  de- 
light and  satisfaction.  Walking  over  to  camp  the  eyes  instinc- 
tively followed  the  two  ranges  that  shut  in  this  desert  basin, 
until  they  rested  upon  the  towering  mountains  that  sentinel 
the  pass  into  the  "Garden  of  Allah."  Snow-crowned  and 
pure  they  stood,  solemn,  calm,  serene,  immovable,  —  types  of 
guardian    spirits    shedding    beneficence    on    every  hand. 

I  never  look  upon  these  mountains  without  recalling  the 
story  of  the  sentinel  angel  with  the  flaming  sword  placed  at  the 
Garden  of  Eden  after  the  expulsion  of  the  man  and  woman  for 
their  disobedience.  That  angel  stood  as  a  preventing  spirit,  — 
not  revengeful,  but  punitive,  —  and  typified,  in  the  biblical 
story  and  in  the  old  conceptions  of  Hebrew  theology,  the  relent- 
less justice  of  God  that  sent  man  forth  into  a  world  of  sorrow 
and  misery,  of  struggle  and  woe,  of  failure  and  despair,  as  well 
as  of  achievement  and  joy,  because  of  his  one  act  of  disobe- 
dience. 

Here,  on  the  other  hand,  these  two  pure  sentinel  peaks 
invite  one,  lure  one,  not  only  to  the  serene  and  calm  of  the  life 
of  the  desert,  where  civilization  and  its  cruel  strifes  are  almost 


70 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


unknown,  but  they  appeal  also  to  the  soul  and  bid  it  claim  its 
own  of  purity,  serenity,  majesty,  and  peace. 

Oh!  blessed  mountains  of  allurement,  of  suggestion,  of  provoca- 
tion to  the  higher  life,  well  worthy  are  you  of  the  honored  position 
you  occupy  —  to  stand  at  the  gateway  of  the  Garden  of  God. 

On  this  March  morning  at 
Mecca   the    peaks  were  not 
only  crowned  with  snow,  but 
their    shoulder    robes    were 
of  ermine,  composed  of  pure 
snow,  and  the  deep  green  of 
the  forests  which  at  this  dis- 
tance looked  perfectly  black. 
Kissed  by  the  early  morning 
light,  which   gave  a  rosy  glow  to 
both  masses,  they  shed  a  richness, 
a   grandeur,  a  sublimity  over  the 
rest  of  the  desert  that  glorified  it. 
It  requires  no  effort  to  worship  at 
such  a  shrine.     It  becomes  a  mys- 
tic altar  of  marble-white  approach, 
with  piled-up,  retreating  terraces 
of  color  leading  the  eye  to  a  grand 
choir  of  proud  and   heaven- 
aspiring  pines,  all  surround- 
ing the  snowy  fane  of  perfect 
purity.     What  wonder  that 
rude  and    profane  men    are 
suddenly  sobered  and  digni- 
fied by  its  swift  effect  when 
its  majesty  and  beauty  are  suddenly  revealed  to  them! 

When  you  first  look  at  the  mountains  they  appear  to  be  all 
alike,  —  big,  brown,  green,  or  red,  rough  and  rugged,  and  that 
is  all  there  is  to  say  about  them.  But  as  you  study  them  how 
astonishingly  different  they  become  in  their  outlines,  shape,  color, 
texture,  and  the  material  of  which  they  are  composed.  And  when 
the  sun  so  shines  that  they  become  dimpled,  then,  indeed,  there  is 
no  wonder  that  one  is  entranced  by  their  bewitching  beauty. 


west  fork 
of  Palm  Canyon 


The  Mountains  of  the  Desert  71 

At  sunset  the  mountain  peaks  are  covered  with  a  golden  glory 
that  no  words  can  picture,  and  the  whole  of  the  western  heavens 
are  one  exquisite  blaze  of  color.  Is  this  glory  of  the  earth  or 
of  heaven  ?  Each  revelation  of  new  splendor  below  seems  to 
call  forth  a  more  perfect  revelation  from  above.  The  moun- 
tains are  more  than  matched  by  the  sky,  yet  they  become  as 
comrades,  not  rivals,  the  one  setting  forth  the  rich  splendor  of 
the  other.     We  seem  to  realize  now  as  never  before  how  that 

"The  emulous  heaven  yearned  down,  made  effort  to  reach  the  earth, 
As  the  earth  had  done  her  best,  in  my  passion,  to  scale  the  sky." 

Each  was  responsive  to  the  emotion  and  movements  of  the 
other.  Soon  the  stars  came  out  in  response  to  the  invitation  of 
the  golden-tipped  mountain  spires,  and  the  moon  floated  forth 
to  caress  the  snowy  crown.  The  palm  trees  waved  their  mys- 
terious messages  to  the  silvery  clouds,  which  bore  them  away 
over  the  misty,  dreamy  purple  of  the  far-away  desert. 

There  are  iour  supreme  mountain  peaks  that  belong  to  the 
Colorado  Desert.  These  are  San  Gorgonio,  San  Bernardino, 
San  Jacinto,  and  the  Cuyamaca. 

The  two  former  are  the  chief  peaks  of  the  San  Bernardino 
range.  San  Gorgonio  has  an  elevation  of  11,725  feet,  and  San 
Bernardino  is  about  seven  hundred  feet  lower. 

San  Jacinto  is  the  chief  peak  of  the  range  that  bears  its  name. 
Its  elevation  is  10,805  feet- 

The  San  Gorgonio  Pass  is  2,808  feet  above  sea-level.  The 
general  altitude  of  the  San  Bernardino  and  San  Jacinto  ranges 
where  they  enclose  the  desert  is  approximately  5,000  feet. 

San  Gorgonio  Mountain  is  sometimes  degraded  by  the  name 
"Grayback,"  given  to  it  by  the  early  miners  and  trappers  on 
account  of  its  broad,  flat  back  suggesting  a  louse.  That  thought- 
ful and  dignified  people  should  be  willing  to  apply  so  degrad- 
ing a  name  to  so  noble  a  peak  is  to  me  incomprehensible,  except 
on  the  ground  of  indifference,  or  ignorance  as  to  the  sources 
of  the  nomenclature  of  these  mountains.  The  names  originally 
were  given  by  the  early  Spanish  settlers,  at  the  time  of  the 
establishment   of    the    Franciscan    missions    in    California,    and 


72  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

later,  when  the  priestly  and  other  explorers  traversed  the  desert 
region.  San  Bernardino  is  named  after  the  saint  of  Clairvaux, 
and  San  Jacinto  either  after  the  Chamberlain  of  the  Emperor 
Trojan,  or  the  noted  Polish  saint,  who  was  a  member  of  the 
order  of  Saint  Dominic,  and  who  lived  A.  D.  1257.  San  Gorgonio 
(Saint  George)  was  named  from  the  saint  universally  honored, 
but  generally  known  as  the  patron  saint  of  England. 

From  the  map  it  will  be  seen  that  the  detached  mountains 
between  the  Salton  Basin  and  the  Mohave  Desert  have  names, 
as  the  Pinto,  Cottonwood,  Coxcomb,  etc.  Of  this  region  Lieut. 
Williamson  wrote  in  1853:  "Between  these  mountains  and  the 
mountains  on  the  Mohave  nothing  is  known  of  the  country. 
I  had  never  heard  of  a  white  man  who  had  penetrated  it.  I 
am  inclined  to  the  belief  that  it  is  a  barren,  mountainous  desert, 
composed  of  a  system  of  basins  and  mountain  ranges.  It  would 
be  an  exceedingly  difficult  country  to  explore,  on  account  of  the 
absence  of  water,  and  there  is  no  rainy  season  of  any  conse- 
quence. I  was  informed  by  the  commanding  officer  at  Fort 
Yuma  that  there  they  usually  had  but  one  rain  during  the  year, 
which  fell  in  August." 

I  can  confirm  all  that  is  said  above,  yet  such  is  the  persistent 
energy  of  man  in  the  face  of  obstacles  that  it  has  been  explored 
and  the  names  noted  on  the  map  were  given  during  the  past 
half  century  by  miners  or  prospectors  and  were  generally  used 
at  first  merely  to  distinguish  them  one  from  another.  Custom 
has  now  hallowed  the  use,  and  most  of  them  are  commonly 
received  and  well  known.  The  Pinto  Mountains  receive  their 
name  from  the  fact  that  they  are  "pinto"  or  painted,  the  word 
being  a  corruption  of  the  Spanish  pintado.  The  Cottonwood 
Mountains  have  a  most  beautiful  oasis  where  several  large,  fine 
cottonwoods  grow  near  what,  on  the  desert,  is  considered  an 
abundant  supply  of  water.  The  Eagle  Mountains  were  found 
to  be  the  home  of  several  eagles,  and  chuckwallas  abound  in 
the  split-up  rocks  of  the  Chuckwalla  Mountains.  The  Coxcombs 
need  only  to  be  seen,  with  their  bold,  several-thousand-feet-high 
granite  imitations  of  coxcombs,  to  be  identified  by  the  most 
careless  observer,  and  the  color  of  the  Chocolate  range  distin- 
guishes it  the  moment  it  is  seen. 


The  Mountains  of  the  Desert 


73 


Several  years  ago  I  made  the  ascent  of  San  Gorgonio.  I  have 
also  made  it  recently.  For  convenience  I  will  write  of  the  two 
trips  as  one.  In  stage  we  traveled  from  Redlands  into  the 
heart  of  the  Santa  Ana  Canyon,  where,  at  a  well-watered  ranch, 
we  changed  to  the  burro  train.  For  several  miles  the  trail  led 
up  the  canyon  and  over  the  slopes  until  the  camp  of  Seven  Oaks 
was  reached  at  an  elevation  ot  five  thousand  feet,  about  twenty- 
two  miles  from  Redlands.  After  a  day  or  two  of  rest,  riding 
over  to  the  Great  and  Little  Bear  Valleys  and  seeing  the  great 
dam  which  impounds  water  for  the  thriving  cities  in  the  valleys 
below,  a  companion,  A.  H.  Pratt,  and  I  set  out  for  San  Gorgonio. 
After  a  delightful  ride  up  the  canyons  and  over  the 
ridges  we  camped  on  the  shore  of  the  Dollar  Lake  M 

and  early  the  next  morning  began  the  final  Mft 

ascent.     We  soon  left  all  trees  behind  J^^HW\\^-'9'--' 

us    and  had  the  heavy  boulders  -^Stf^'  CW»    ""'''(I 

and  split  granite  masses  to  climb         \?.*}M  ^  •'-  W'Cw'  r"r^ 


The 

San  Bernardino 

Mountains 


over.  Pratt  carried  the  camera  and  I  a  half-dozen  eight  by  ten 
plates  and  the  tripod.  The  altitude  told  somewhat  on  our 
breathing  and  the  snowslides  we  had  to  climb  added  new  diffi- 
culties. Step  by  step  we  forced  our  way  along,  now  stopping 
to  take  breath,  now  lying  down  on  the  sloping  snow  or  rugged 
rocks  to  rest.  At  last  the  flat  summit  was  clearly  outlined 
before  us. 


A  few  more  gasps,  a  few  more  struggles  and  we  were  on  top. 
I  had  purposely  kept  my  eyes  from  looking  out  before  I  was 
fairly  on  the  summit.  I  wished  to  see  nothing  until  I  could  see 
all.  In  a  moment  the  great  vast  scene  was  given  to  me.  It 
was  mine  to  enjoy,  to  wonder  over,  to  study,  and  to  feel  its  gigantic 


74 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


power.  The  first  impression  was  that  it  was  not,  could  not  be 
real.  It  was  so  wonderful,  so  vast,  so  extensive,  so  diverse,  and 
everything  was  so  magnified  —  space,  distances,  sandy  wastes, 
flat  plain,  water  —  that  it  seemed  as  if  it  was  one  of  the  opium  or 
hasheesh  dreams  of  De  Quincey  or  Fitzhugh  Ludlow.  It  was 
monstrous,  enlarged  beyond  conception,  terrific  in  its  power. 
Then,  too,  it  was  so  strange,  so  foreign.  It  was  desert,  yet  at 
our  feet  was  a  great  forest,  leading  down  to  an  expansive  plain  of 
snow,  beyond  which  nestled  a  vast  lake.  Yet  how  could  it  be 
snow,  when  heat  waves  were  ascending  from  it  ?  It  was  a  delu- 
sion, a  mockery,  a  phantasm.  No!  it  was  not  snow.  It  was 
salty  efflorescence  and  white  or  gray  sand.     The  billowy  yellowish 

green  of  the  trees,  the  mixed 
greens  and  grays  of^the  foot- 
hills, with  their  verdure  and 
granite  boulders,  the  gray 
stretch  of  sand  from  the  pass 
to  Indio,  the  oasis  caused  by 
the  flowing  wells  reaching 
from  Indio  for  twenty  or 
more  miles  in  the  Coachella 
Valley,  the  sand-dunes  to 
the  left  and  right  of  Indio, 
the  Salton  Sea  which  lay  like 
a  turquoise  mass  of  the  sky 
prostrate  upon  the  earth, 
the  grays,  chocolates,  reds,  and  browns  of  the  mountains  on 
either  side,  gave  a  color  picture  as  weird  and  startling  as  it  was 
entrancing  and  bewildering.  The  sand-dunes  from  this  elevation 
assumed  all  kinds  of  hideous  and  monstrous  shapes,  as  if  the 
pterodactyls,  ichthyosauri,  and  terrific  camels,  dromedaries, 
sphynxes,  whales,  leviathans,  wrecked  .vessels  covered  with  sand 
and  mossy  green  stuff  that  crowd  a  nightmare  with  terrors  had 
suddenly  become  transfixed  here  forever.  The  entire  scene  is 
vividly  pictured  in  memory. 

The  Mohave  as  well  as  the  Colorado  Desert  is  stretched  out 
before  us,  and  every  one  of  the  small  desert  clusters  of  mountains 
can  clearly  be  distinguished  and    named.     To  the  south,  nine 


sy 


—mecdQgk 


A  side  gorge  on  San  Jacinto  Mountains 


The  Mountains  of  the  Desert  75 

thousand  feet  below,  yawns  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  and  on  the 
other  side  we  can  see  clearly  what  we  never  before  were  able  to 
understand,  viz.,  that  San  Jacinto  on  its  desert  side  is  the  steepest 
mountain  rise  known  in  the  world,  ten  thousand  feet  in  less  than 
five  miles.  Just  around  the  corner  there  to  the  southwest  is  the 
entrance  to  Chino  Canyon,  where  my  desert  camp  is  hidden.  Far 
beyond  the  Salton  is  the  Imperial  Valley,  the  green  making  a 
delicious  contrast  to  the  fierce  uprising  heat  from  the  desert  in 
and  around  Yuha.  Lower  California,  Arizona,  and  part  of 
Nevada  are  clearly  to  be  seen,  the  eye  resting  upon  Death 
Valley  and  the  Funeral  Mountains,  as  it  sweeps  around 
to   the    Cajon    Pass,  where     the    mountains 


\ 


Bats'  caves  near  Durmid 


at  our  feet,   pine-clad   and  green  in  their   beauty, 
^  drop  down  to  a  low  level.     Sweeping  upwards  again 

they  form  the  two  Cucamonga   peaks,  San  Antonio 
*  and  all   the  lesser  peaks   and   ridges  of  the  Sierra 

Madre,  leading  the  eye  along  to  the  San  Fernando 
Mountains,  and  the  Sierra  Nevadas  to  the  east,  while 
to  the  west  are  the  Sierra  Santa  Ines  and  the  great 
placid  sweep  of  the  Ocean  of  Calm. 

In  the  immediate  foreground,  spread  out  like  a  vast  Turkish 
rug,  lined  and  streaked  with  avenues  and  roads,  but  woven  into 
a  pattern  of  such  sublime  grandeur  and  inconceivable  intricacy, 
with  colors  so  glorious  and  enchanting  as  if  angels  had  conceived 
it  for  the  very  footprints  of  Deity  Himself,  is  the  fertile  stretch 
of  Riverside,  San  Bernardino,  Orange,  and  Los  Angeles  Counties, 
where  all  the  semitropical  verdure,  trees,  plants,  shrubs,  and 
flowers  are  gathered  together  to  surround  the  dwelling-places  of 
men. 


70  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

There  are  not  many  scenes  that  "dwell"  in  the  mind  of  a  con- 
stant traveler.  One  shuts  out  another.  But  though  I  have  been 
"on  the  jump"  for  many  years,  studying  and  observing  with  care, 
yielding  myself  with  unrestrained  enthusiasm  to  all  new  scenes, 
this  one  stands  out  yet  as  vivid  and  clear  as  it  did  on  that  morn- 
ing a  dozen  or  more  years  ago. 

The  companion  peak,  San  Bernardino,  may  be  reached  by  a 
seven  or  eight  mile  climb  along  a  rugged  but  wide  ridge.  Its  view 
is  somewhat  similar  though  not  as  sweeping  as  that  of  San  Gor- 
gonio.  Snow  on  this  summit  falls  as  deep  as  twenty  and  twenty- 
five  feet,  for  in  June  I  have  found  wide  banks  from  ten  to  twelve 
feet  deep.  Here  is  the  source  of  the  water  supply  of  the  desert, 
and  not  only  of  the  desert,  but  of  the  fertile  region. 

Quite  recently  George  L.  Lamy,  an  engineer  of  Riverside,  re- 
ported that  he  had  discovered  an  underground  stream  flowing 
from  the  slopes  of  San  Gorgonio  to  the  marshes  at  Long  Beach. 
He  claims  to  have  mapped  this  underground  flow,  so  that  he  can 
tap  it  at  any  point,  and  has  just  closed  a  contract  with  the  city  of 
Corona  for  five  hundred  inches  of  water,  constant  flow,  at  a  price 
of  half  a  million  dollars.  Thus  these  desert  sentinels  prove  their 
utility  as  well  as  their  majesty  and  beauty. 

There  are  several  ways  that  one  may  reach  the  summit  of 
Mount  San  Jacinto,  and  they  are  all  well  worth  attempting.  The 
most  popular  is  that  by  way  of  Strawberry  Valley.  This  valley 
is  now  a  noted  resort  and  one  gains  its  sheltering  hotel  without 
more  trouble  than  a  pleasant  stage  ride.  -  The  most  picturesque 
trail  is  up  Palm  Canyon  from  Palm  Springs,  and  this  is  described 
in  the  chapter  "From  Pines  to  Palms."  The  most  difficult  and  least 
known  is  an  old  Indian  trail  from  the  hot  spring  in  Chino  Can- 
yon, but  the  most  diversified  is  that  from  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass 
at  La  Cueva.  There  is  no  trail,  save  here  and  there  the  track  of 
the  mountain  sheep.  Leaving  La  Cueva,  which  is  at  the  base 
of  the  mountain  on  its  northern  side,  we  enter  Falls  Creek  Canyon, 
passing  beautiful  sycamores  on  the  way.  The  canyon  is  wild 
and  rugged;  a  spur  of  the  mountains  rising  sharply  on  one  side 
for  several  thousand  feet,  and  a  sheer  wall,  about  fifteen  hundred 
feet  high,  lining  the  other  side.     One  may  stand  on  the  top  of 


The  Mountains  of  the  Desert  77 

this  precipice  wall  and  throw  a  pebble  into  the  creek  below.  The 
slopes  of  the  mountain  are  dotted  here  and  there  with  a  variety 
of  cactus  and  the  creosote  bush,  artemisia,  and  live-oak.  Along 
the  watercourses  are  alders,  sycamores,  and  live-oaks  with  num- 
berless vines,  mosses,  lichens,  liverworts,  and  grasses.  To  gain 
the  snow  ridge  one  now  has  to  climb  and  explore.  Canyon  after 
canyon,  and  ridge  after  ridge  are  crossed,  where  icy  waters  flow 
down  from  the  snow-fields  above.  The  only  sure  plan  is  to  reso- 
lutely edge  around  to  the  northwest;  keep  persistently  pushing 
around,  overcoming  the  difficulties  as  they  arise.  To  attempt  to 
go  to  the  summit  directly  from  the  north  is  surely  to  court  defeat, 
as  every  canyon  seems  to  terminate  in  a  waterfall,  and  the  ridges 
are  densely  covered  with  manzanita  and  a  chaparral  of  scrub- 
oak,  greasewood,  and  buck-brush.  This  tangled  mass  varies  from 
five  to  twelve  feet  high,  and  is  often  impenetrable  save  with  an 
axe.  But  the  charm  and  delight  of  exploring  these  rugged  can- 
yons, enjoying  the  waterfalls  and  the  clear,  pellucid  streams  of 
si:ow-water,  and  the  rare  experience  of  walking  into  snow  tunnels 
made  by  the  flowing  water,  where,  at  a  temperature  near  to 
freezing,  one  can  look  out  to  ridges  upon  which  he  baked  at  ioo° 
Fahrenheit  a  few  minutes  before,  make  this  rugged  north  slope 
of  San  Jacinto  the  most  desirable  point  of  attack  to  the  real 
lover  of  mountain  climbing. 

Following  one  of  the  ridges,  the  parallel  canyon  below  full  of 
deep  snow,  we  may  observe  the  processes  at  work  which  made  in 
the  long  ago  past  the  immense  number  of  granite  boulders  found 
in  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass.  Here  are  the  remnants  of  true  glaciers 
—  weak  and  feeble,  it  is  true,  still  actually  and  easily  carrying 
masses  of  rock  a  ton  and  more  in  weight  and  tumbling  them  down 
into  the  creek  below.  All  the  creek  beds  are  strewn  with  these 
glacier-hewn  and  glacier-transported  boulders,  and  day  after  day 
one  may  witness  the  cracking  or  breaking  off  of  the  rock  masses 
from  the  face  of  the  cliffs. 

When  I  think  of  the  students  in  the  schools  and  colleges  in 
Southern  California,  —  at  Redlands,  Riverside,  Corona,  San 
Bernardino,  Pomona,  Ontario,  Pasadena,  Los  Angeles,  Long 
Beach,  etc.,  —  none  of  them  more  than  four  hours  by  rail  away 
from  this  point,  and  how  they  might  in  this  grand  school  of  Nature 


78  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

learn  something  of  her  processes  by  actual  contact,  I  wonder  and 
ask  myself  when  will  the  teacher  of  the  superior  (!)  race  learn 
from  the  Indian,  and,  instead  of  teaching  his  classes  about  glaciers 
and  soil-making  from  books,  bring  them  out  into  the  places  where 
these  things  are  actually  transpiring  ?  A  few  days  camping  out 
here  will  teach  lessons  that  ten  years  of  books  can  never  supply. 
Higher  up  we  come  to  the  smoothed  rock  faces,  where,  cen- 
turies ago,  the  glaciers,  larger  than  now,  glided  over  these  granite 
fields,  shaping  them  into  curves  and  domes,  and  grooving  them 
with  the  rocks  they  carried  along. 

Remembering  the  tree  growth  on  the  eastern  slope  at  the 
height  we  have  now  attained,  here  we  find  a  somewhat  different 
growth;  there  the  single-leaved  nut-pine  being  most  in  evidence, 

while   here   there   are 

evergreen  oaks,  willows, 

sycamore,  walnut,  alder, 

and    cottonwoods,    with, 

now   and  then,  a  big-cone  fir, 

a  big-cone  pine,  and  the  yellow 

pine. 

We  now  approach    an   area 
;  -^  i=^^~;:  where  there  are  few  trees,  the 

^SS^2:[%^^  granIte      being     malnly      ^      eVi" 

"  *^^&8^.'"£>  =~~'~i0s?'-  ''  dence.    Above  this  we  find  our- 

i "  ;y*  *>=•         • 

,,       /  c-        T     .  .    ,  selves  in  the  real  forests  where 

Mount  San  Jacinto  from 

Whitewater  the   tall    timber    grows.       And 

what  a  change  it  is  from  the 
scorching  desert  beneath!  Now  and  then,  as  we  have  ascended 
to  prominent  ridges,  we  have  had  wonderful  outlooks,  over  the 
pass,  across  to  the  San  Bernardino  range,  with  its  flashing  snow- 
fields  and  sparkling  watercourses.  We  have  been  following  the 
course  of  the  railway  trains  from  Banning  down  to  the  level  of 
the  desert  floor;  we  can  see  the  pulsing  heat  waves  ascending  as 
from  an  oven,  and  we  remember  our  own  discomfort  in  the  heat 
but  a  day  or  two  ago,  and  now!  now!  we  are  in  the  most  delicious 
shade,  surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  that  fairly  flows  into  every 
hidden  place  of  our  body,  bringing  cool  refreshment  and  sen- 
sations of  fresh  vigor  and  new  life.     The  pines  sing  joyously  above 


The  Mountains  of  the  Desert  79 

us,  and,  as  we  see  the  bare  ledges  of  the  granite  above,  capped 
by  the  snow-streaked  summit,  we  cry  Excelsior!  and  joyously  dash 
on  ahead.  It  is  not  a  hard  climb,  nor  is  it  dangerous.  The 
slope  is  comparatively  easy  and,  while  there  is  dense  though  low 
undergrowth,  the  chief  feature  of  which  is  the  chinquapin,  it  oc- 
curs in  patches  which  are  easily  avoided.  In  the  heart  ol  the  pine 
forest  there  is  no  underbrush.  Fires  have  swept  it  clean,  but  the 
floor  is  covered  with  a  springing  carpet  of  sweet-smelling  spiculae, 
and  large  cones  which  we  wish  we  might  carry  off  to  sweeten  the 
rooms  in  our  house  in  town. 

In  the  final  climb  of  the  last  one  thousand  feet  or  so  there  are 
but  few  trees  and  when,  at  last,  the  summit  is  reached  we  feel 
■ —  what  ?  That  we  are  well  repaid  ?  We  have  been  repaid  all 
the  way  up.  Each  hour's  climbing  has  brought  its  own  imme- 
diate reward.  And  the  expansive  view  ?  We  have  stolen  so 
many  views  on  the  way  up  that  this  adds  but  little  to  what  we 
have  already  gained,  except,  of  course,  that  we  have  a  new 
series  of  views  to  the  east,  south,  and  west.  But  the  chief  charm 
to  me  of  being  on  the  summit  is  that  I  learn  a  new  respect 
for  the  grand  mountain  itself.  Everything  below  seems  to  fall 
into  its  proper  place.  Proportions  are  better  understood.  I 
know  now  what  a  truly  majestic  mountain  I  am  standing 
upon,  and  henceforth  it  will  be  different.  To  gain  this  knowl- 
edge was  well  worth  all  the  labor  of  the  arduous  climb. 

Mount  Cuyamaca  is  about  six  thousand  five  hundred  feet 
above  sea-level,  and  is  one  of  the  offshoots  of  the  great  Sierra 
San  Jacinto.  It  is  the  most  prominent  of  the  mountains  on  the 
desert  side  of  all  the  San  Diego  County  mountains.  The  highest 
point  is  known  as  Lyon's  Peak  and  is  a  bold,  gaunt  mass  of 
granite,  in  the  winter  months  covered  with  snow.  It  is  a  com- 
paratively easy  mountain  to  ascend,  though  few  make  the  trip, 
as  the  three  peaks  of  the  San  Miguel  range  are  nearer  to  San 
Diego,  easier  of  access,  and  higher  than  Lyon's  Peak.  But  the 
surpassing  joy  of  this  ascent  is  the  view,  which  has  a  fuller  and 
nearer  combination  of  all  the  varied  features  of  the  land.  Here 
there  is  the  same  wonderful  combination  of  old  and  new,  wild 
and  tame,  uncultivated  and  cultivated,  found  on  the  other  sum- 
mits, but  with  the  addition  of  the  close  proximity  of  the  ocean 


80  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

on  one  side,  and  the  Imperial  Valley  on  the  other.  Both  are 
clearly  discernible,  the  former  lying  beneath  the  afternoon  sun 
like  a  long  golden  cloud,  and  the  latter,  green  almost  to  black- 
ness, like  a  vast  emerald  in  shadow. 

From  the  summit  of  these  mountains,  especially  those  stand- 
ing between  the  desert  and  the  Pacific,  one  can  well  study  some 
of  the  phenomena  of  the  peculiar  climatology  of  this  region.  I 
have  elsewhere  explained  the  wind  blast  through  the  San  Gor- 
gonio  Pass,  and  the  fact  that  the  cooled  air  currents  flowing  from 
the  ocean  back  eastward  over  the  range  are  met  by  more  ascend- 
ing hot  air  columns  from  the  desert.  This  conflict  of  the  two 
opposing  columns  explains  the  comparative  coolness  and  dryness 
of  the  atmosphere  on  the  higher  slopes  of  the  San  Jacinto  range 
and  that  few  cooling  breezes  flow  over  the  mountains  into  the 
desert  in  the  daytime.  The  action  of  these  air  currents  can 
speedily  be  determined  by  watching  an  ascending  column  of 
smoke  from  a  desert  fire.  As  it  rises  it  flows  gently  to  the  east, 
going  more  and  more  slowly,  until,  when  at  an  elevation  of 
8,500  to  9,000  feet,  it  comes  to  a  standstill,  and  then  steals  off 
to  the  west.  On  the  summit  of  Mount  San  Gorgonio  I  well  re- 
member the  feeling  of  surprise  at  discovering  the  wind  blowing 
westward,  while  in  the  canyons  several  thousand  feet  below  it 
invariably  blows  to  the  east. 


The  Volcanoes  of  the  Desert 


CHAPTER   VI 

The  Volcanoes  of  the  Desert 

fOLCANIC  activity  has  made  many  changes 
in  the  Colorado  Desert.    Clarence  Kino-  calls 
San  Jacinto  Mountain  a  volcanic  peak,  and 
the  noises  heard  beneath  it  that  so  frighten  the 
Indians  suggest  some  kind  of  internal  activity. 
The  mountains  of   the  continuation  of  the  San 
Bernardino  range    below  the  Moron  go  Pass  are 
volcanic,  and  the  four  buttes  that  are  now  islands 
at  the  southeastern  end  of  the  Salton  Sea  are  of  lava  and  pumice. 

There  are,  however,  in  the  limits  to  which  I  have  confined  my- 
self, no  extinct  volcanic  craters  as  on  the  Mohave,  Painted,  and 
other  deserts  of  this  southwestern  region.  Pilot  Knob  may  be 
taken  as  an  illustration  of  evidences  of  former  volcanic  activity, 
and  yet  there  are  volcanoes  (or  were,  until  a  few  months  ago) 
active  and  alive,  giving  forth  their  messages  from  the  heated  inte- 
rior of  the  earth.  It  is  with  these  volcanoes  I  wish  my  readers 
to  become  acquainted.  They  are  volcanoes,  not  of  fiery  lava,  but 
of  hot  quicksands  and  mud. 

Pilot  Knob  is  a  well-known  landmark  that  has  guided  many  a 
weary  traveler  over  the  desert  ever  since  it  has  been  traversed  by 
the  foot  of  intelligent  man.  It  rises,  solitary,  from  the  Colorado 
River  plain,  a  few  miles  southeast  of  Yuma.  The  Southern 
Pacific  railway,  as  well  as  the  river,  passes  close  by  it.  Though 
mainly  composed  of  granite,  the  bent  and  contorted  mass,  which 
is  traversed  by  dikes  of  basalt  or  some  dark  variety  of  crystalline 
trap  rock,  shows  so  clearly  the  effect  of  volcanic  action  that  I  call 
attention  to  it  here.  The  Knob  itself  is  of  a  jet  black  color,  and  it 
glistens  in  the  sun  as  if  it  had  been  varnished  or  highly  polished. 
Until  the  railway  ran  through  the  desert  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  few  knew  anything  of  the  mud  volcanoes  or  salses.     The 

Vol  I.  —  G 


82 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


Indians  of  the  country  have  always  regarded  them  as  the  abode  of 
evil  and  malignant  spirits,  and  to  the  white  man  the  fearful  heat 
of  the  glaring  sands  and  clays  and  alkaline  beds  of  the  desert,  with 
the  scarcity  of  water,  and  even  that  of  a  bitter  and  brackish  quality, 
were  sufficient  obstacles  to  prevent  his  willingly  risking  his  life  to 
visit  them.  The  coyote,  that  desert  scavenger  that  likes  liberally 
to  thrust  his  nose  into  everything,  shuns  these  salses.  His  experi- 
ence has  been  that  hot  water,  hotter  mud,  and  poisonous  fumes  are 
not  good  for  his  nasal  extremity,  and  the  dried-up  skin  and  bones 
of  one  fellow  that  I  found  on  my  first  visit  proved  that  one  inquis- 
itive nose  had  led  its  possessor  to  his  death.     On  this  first  visit, 


Ravine 

near  mud  volcanoes 


too,  I  discovered  how  treacherous  the  ground  was  in  which  the 
volcanoes  occur.  I  was  cautiously  walking  toward  one  of  the 
craters  from  which  a  bubbling  sound  arose,  when  to  my  horror 
the  ground  gave  way  beneath  me  and  had  I  not  been  more  than 
usually  quick  mentally  and  active  physically  in  such  cases  I  should 
have  been  precipitated  into  I  know  not  what  beneath.  I  only 
know  that  as  I  threw  myself  backward,  flat  upon  the  earth,  I 
heard  an  unusual  activity  in  the  several  near-by  craters,  as  if  some 
demoniac  spirits  were  expressing  their  anger  that  I  had  escaped  the 
trap  they  had  laid  for  me. 

And  this  was  not  all  the  work  of  imagination.     When  Professor 
Hanks,  the  State  Geologist,  visited  this  region  some  years  ago,  he 


The  Volcanoes  of  the  Desert 


83 


fell  through  in  like  manner,  but  unfortunately  did  not  escape  as  I 
did.  His  body  was  immersed  nearly  up  to  the  shoulders  in  scald- 
ing hot  water  and  mud,  and  only  by  the  superhuman  efforts  of 
himself  and  companion  was  he  rescued.  For  a  time  it  was  thought 
he  was  fatally  scalded,  but  good  care  and  the  healing  power  of  the 
desert  restored  him  to  health. 

After  my  experience  I  secured  two  long  and  broad  strips  of  wood 
and  fastened  them  to  my  feet  as  Norwegian  snow-shoes,  or  skees, 
and  then  laboriously  but  safely  went  on  with  my  investigations. 

On  the  occasion  of  my  visit,  in  March,  1906,  the  ground  seemed 
to  be  much  firmer  and  these  precautions  were  unnecessary. 


Approaching  the  mud  volcanoes 


These  mud  volcanoes  were  first  made  known  to  the  world  by 
Professor  Blake  in  the  report  of  explorations  for  a  railroad  to  the 
Pacific,  though  they  were  visited  by  Major  Heintzelman  and  Dr. 
J.  L.  Le  Conte  in  1850,  while  the  former  was  stationed  at  Fort 
Yuma.  There  are  two  areas  of  them,  one  near  Sierra  Prieta  and 
Volcano  Lake  in  Lower  California,  and  the  other  not  far  from 
Pelican  Island,  and  now  covered  by  the  Salton  Sea.  I  shall  de- 
scribe the  latter  only. 

On  approaching  the  salses  one  can  hear  the  wild  rush  of  the 
steam,  the  hollow  sounds  of  the  mud  explosions  and  the  peculiar 
murmur  of  the  boiling  caldrons  of  quicksand.  The  space  oc- 
cupied is  about  five  hundred  feet  long  and  three  hundred  and  fifty 
broad,  slightly  elevated  above  the  clayey  plain.  We  had  to  wade 
through  a  narrow  and  shallow  pond  of  salt  water  to  reach  the 


84 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


volcanoes.  The  smell  of  sulphur  was  quite  strong,  and  the  bub- 
bling, soughing,  hissing,  venting,  and  spitting  of  the  water,  steam, 
and  mud  filled  our  ears.  There  were  over  a  hundred  vents  of 
one  kind  or  another,  most  of  them  so  small  as  to  be  perfectly 
ridiculous.  It  seemed  as  if  a  lot  of  tiny  devils  were  playing  at 
making  volcanoes:  watery  mud,  scalding  hot,  bubbled  and  gurgled 
and  frothed  in  the  same  way  that  artesian  water  bubbles  over 
the  top  of  its  casing.  Black,  ill-smelling,  and  fearsome  it  was. 
Here  is  Veatch's  description,  which  in  one  or  two  particulars 
differs  materially  from  what  we  saw:  "The  steam  jets  of  the 
salse  issue  from  conical  mounds  of  mud  varying  from  three  to 


The  seething  caldron 
of  boiling  mud  and 

quicksand 


fifteen  feet  in  height,  the  sides  presenting  various  angles,  some 
being  sharp  and  slender  cones,  others  dome-shaped  mounds  that 
seem  to  have  spread  and  flattened  out  with  their  own  weight, 
upon  the  discontinuance  of  the  action  that  formed  them.  Out 
of  some  of  the  cones  the  steam  rushes  in  a  continuous  stream,  with 
a  roaring  or  whizzing  sound,  as  the  orifices  vary  in  diameter  or 
the  jets  differ  in  velocity.  In  others  the  action  is  intermittent, 
and  each  recurring  rush  oi  steam  is  accompanied  by  a  discharge 
of  a  shower  of  hot  mud,  masses  of  which  are  thrown  sometimes  to 
the  height  of  a  hundred  feet.  These  discharges  take  place  every 
few  minutes  from  some  of  the  mounds,  while  others  seem  to  have 
been  quiet  for  weeks  or  months.  During  our  short  stay  we  had 
specimens  of  the  rapidity  with  which   a  sharp,  conical  mound 


The  Volcanoes  of  the  Desert 


85 


could  be  built  up  and  again  tumbled  down.  In  one  place  a 
stream  of  hot  water  was  thrown  up  from  fifteen  to  thirty  feet, 
falling  in  a  copious  shower  on  every  side,  forming  a  circle  within 
which  one  might  stand  without  danger  from  the  scalding  drops, 
unless  the  wind  chanced  to  drive  them  from  their  regular  course. 
It  issued  from  a  superficial  mound  out  of  an  opening  about  six 
inches  in  diameter;  but  the  column  of  steam  and  water,  immedi- 
ately upon  issuing,  expanded  to  a  much  greater  size.  The  orifice 
was  lined  with  an  incrustation  of  carbonate  of  lime,  and  around 
it,  and  particularly  on  the  southeast  side,  stood  a 

miniature  grove  of  ^%i^y^  slender  stalagmite  ar- 

borescent concre-  „/S' 'W&Mfa,  tions  of  the  same 

substance.     They  &3\^Wi^Wk.  were  from  half  an 

inch  to  one  and  WmMSmMsth,  a  half  inches  in 


■&sm& 


_£*3^>  Built-up  cone  of  one  of  the  mud  volcanoes 


diameter,  and  from  four  to  eight  inches  in  height.  Many  of  them 
were  branched  and  the  tips  colored  red,  contrasting  beautifully 
with  the  marble  whiteness  of  the  trunk,  and  resembling  much 
a  coral  grove.  Some  were  hollow,  and  delicate  jets  of  steam 
issued  from  their  summits,  and  this  seemed  to  explain  the  mode 
of  their  formation.  Some  were  not  hollow  throughout,  being 
closed  at  the  summit,  but  when  detached  from  their  base,  a  small 
orifice  in  the  center  suffered  hot  steam  to  pass,  and  some  degree 
of  caution  was  required  to  remove  them  without  scalded  fingers. 
To  approach  the  spot  was  a  feat  of  some  difficulty,  surrounded 
as  it  was  by  a  magic  circle  of  hot  rain.  I  retreated,  scalded,  from 
the  only  attempt  I  dared  make;  but  my  son,  more  adventurous 


86  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

or  more  attracted  by  the  beauty  of  the  specimens,  succeeded  in 
bringing  away  several.  The  falling  water  ran  off  into  a  pool  a 
foot  deep,  but  what  became  of  it  was  not  apparent,  as  it  had  no 
seeming  outlet.  I  brought  away  a  bottle  of  it  for  examination. 
It  was  transparent,  but  had  an  intensely  bitter  and  saline  taste. 
A  little  beyond,  on  either  hand,  are  two  huge  caldron-like  basins, 
sunk  five  or  six  feet  below  the  general  level,  and  near  a  hundred 
feet  in  diameter.  Within  these  caldrons  a  bluish  argillaceous 
paste  is  continually  boiling  with  a  dull  murmur,  emitting  copious 
sulphurous  vapors,  and  huge  bubbles,  bursting,  throw  masses  of 
mud  to  the  height  of  several  feet.  These  kettles  sometimes  boil 
over,  and  the  matter  runs  off  in  a  slimy  stream  toward  the  Salt 
Lake.  This  seems  to  have  been  the  case  recently,  as  we  encoun- 
tered the  track  of  one  of  these  streams,  not  yet  dry,  a  mile  from 
the  salse." 

I  have  never  seen  the  volcanoes  in  the  high  state  of  activity 
thus  described  by  Dr.  Veatch.  There  is  every  reason  to  assume 
that  they  have  periods  of  greater  and  lesser  activity.  In  March, 
1906,  there  was  no  hot  water  being  thrown  up  to  a  great  height. 
The  evidences  of  greater  activity  than  we  saw,  however,  were 
most  abundant  in  several  quiescent  craters.  The  tininess  of  some 
of  the  vents  was  a  source  of  amusement  to  me,  for  they  were  so 
small  that  my  lead  pencil  effectively  checked  their  spitting  and 
fizzling.  I  thrust  it  down  one  of  them  as  far  as  it  would  go,  and 
when  it  was  withdrawn  the  little  crater,  or  cone,  like  a  vicious 
cat,  spat  and  hissed  at  me  in  a  very  funny  manner. 

When  I  circumnavigated  the  Salton  Sea  in  June,  the  whole 
volcanic  area  was  under  water.  Not  a  trace  or  sign  of  it  re- 
mained save  the  four  volcanic  buttes,  which  are  now  islands. 

I  now  await  with  great  interest  the  "going  down"  of  the  Salton 
Sea,  and  the  uncovering  of  the  volcanoes.  Will  the  water  have 
quenched  the  internal  fires  ?  Have  they  been  quieted  forever  ? 
How  will  the  ground  be  affected  ?  These  and  other  questions 
I  hope  to  solve  soon  after  the  water  subsides. 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders  87 


CHAPTER   VII 

Explorers  and  Pathfinders 

jOW  many  centuries  is  it  since  the  first  man  saw 
the  desert  ?  Who  first  gazed  upon  the  wastes 
of  the  Colorado  ?  What  foot  first  trod  the  virgin 
sand  after  this  new-made  area  was  wrested  from 
the  Gulf  of  California  ?  Was  there  any  horror, 
any  terror,  any  surprise,  as  its  wonders  were  re- 
vealed for  the  first  time  ?  And  what  existed 
there  then  ?  Was  there  much  difference  com- 
pared with  what  we  now  see  ?     How  did  it  first  appear  ? 

Ah!  these  questionings  of  the  human  mind;  these  problems  that 
are  constantly  arising  before  us  and  demanding  solution;  what  a 
blessing  they  are  to  us;  how  they  stimulate  research  and  add  to 
man's  capacity  and  knowledge. 

Birds,  doubtless,  first  saw  the  Colorado  Desert  as  it  slowly  as- 
sumed the  form  and  appearance  it  now  possesses.  In  calm  indif- 
ference they  soared  the  empyrean  and  floated  across  the  waste,  not 
perceiving,  perhaps,  that  change  was  taking  place.  And  yet  the 
water-birds  must  have  noted  a  change.  Those  that  nested  in  the 
mountains  or  foot-hills  near  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  and  "fished" 
in  the  silent  waters  as  the  pelicans  and  herons  now  fish  in  the  Salton 
Sea,  followed  the  retreating  waters  and,  if  they  were  capable  of  it, 
wondered  at  the  close  of  each  day  to  find  their  homeward  flight  so 
much  the  more  prolonged. 

Then  the  animals  of  the  foot-hills,  who  had  laved  in  and  drank 
of  the  waters  of  the  great  inland  sea;  they  walked  to  and  fro  each 
morning  and  night  over  the  freshly  emerged  land.  They  were  the 
first  pathfinders.  They  made  the  first  trails.  Over  the  washed- 
down  sands  of  the  mountains,  now  and  ever-henceforth-to-be 
desert  sands;  around  the  surface  irregularities  of  the  newly  exposed 
area  they  stealthily  moved,  some  fearful  and  timorous,  some  bold 


88 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


and  courageous,  but  all  alike  seeking  the  precious  fluid  which  each 
day  seemed  to  be  going  farther  and  farther  away. 

The  grizzly,  the  mountain  lion,  the  antelope,  deer,  bighorn, 
coyote,  fox,  gopher,  rat,  jack-rabbit,  cottontail,  —  these  first  dis- 
covered the  desert  and  explored  its  yet  virgin  wastes. 

So  that  when  man,  dusky  man,  came  on  the  scene,  all  he  had  to 
do  was  to  follow  the  paths  already  made  and  hewould  find  most  of 
the  places  and  objects  that  were  by  him  desired.  For,  on  the 
desert,  the  needs  of  primitive  man  are  not  very  far  removed  from 
those  of  the  lower  animals.     Food,  drink,  shelter  for  one's  self  and 

one's  family,  —  these  though  in- 
sistent and  imperative  needs  are 
not  large  needs:  they  are  compar- 
atively easily  satisfied. 

For  long  centuries  our  brown 
brother  traversed  the  desert  alone; 
unmolested  and  unafraid,  save 
for  fear  of  others  of  his  kind  who 
might  need  the  small  supply  of 
water  upon  which  he  and  his 
were  relying.  He  dug  the  wells 
that  now  tell  of  his  early  wander- 
ings and  habitations;  he  found 
the  quickest  routes  from  diverse  and  divergent  points;  his 
unclad  foot  wrested  from  the  reluctant  soil  the  token  of  his 
journeys  in  the  lorm  of  trails  and  paths;  his  eye  witnessed 
the  first  growth  of  flowers,  cactus,  and  trees.  He  was  the  first 
to  realize  how  vast  the  difference  between  the  desert  covered 
with  flowers  after  the  rains,  and  the  desert  of  the  hot  scorching 
months.  He  first  felt  the  fierce  and  withering  blasts  blowing;  down 
the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  and  saw  the  piling  up  of  the  moving 
sand-dunes.  His  eyes  first  gazed  upon  the  spitting  and  fuming, 
the  bubbling  and  soughing  of  the  sand  and  mud  volcanoes,  and  he 
first  saw  the  deposits  of  salt  and  the  millions  of  shells  that  now 
arrest  the  gaze  of  the  white  visitant. 

Then  came  the  explorer  of  the  white  skin;  the  man  with  lust  in 
his  eye,  —  lust  for  gold,  new  territory,  achievement,  conquest. 
By  1522  Cortes  had  subjugated  the  continent  from  the  isthmus  of 


Juan  Segondo  at  Torres 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders  8  9 

Tehuantepec  to  Panuco  and  Colima.  Forces  were  sent  south  into 
Guatemala,  while  Cortes  dreamed  of  further  explorations  and 
discoveries  north.  The  activity  of  his  enemies  sent  two  powerful 
foes  to  harass  and  circumvent  him.  One  of  these,  Nuno  de  Guz- 
man, was  to  have  a  large  share  in  shaping  events  which  led  to  the 
discovery  of  the  Colorado  Desert  region  to  the  Spaniard,  for  in 
person  he  went  northward  and  discovered  and  subjugated  much 
new  territory.  Then  came  the  Viceroy  Mendoza.  Cabeza  de 
Vaca  had  made  his  memorable  trip  across  the  continent.  Marcos 
de  Niza  was  sent  on  his  reconnaissance  which  led  to  the  discovery  of 
Arizona  and  New  Mexico,  and  then  Cortes  and  Mendoza  engaged 
in  a  strenuous  political  fight  as  to  who  should  explore  the  north- 
west region  further.  Cortes  claimed  the  exclusive  right,  and  Men- 
doza naturally  wanted  some  share  in  such  interesting  proceedings 
which  were  liable  to  bring  honor,  fame,  and  wealth  to  their  success- 
ful prosecutor.  Cortes  succeeded  in  making  the  first  start.  He 
sent  Francisco  de  Ulloa,  with  three  vessels,  up  the  coast  from 
Acapulco,  July  8,  1539.  This  was  the  expedition  that  discovered 
that  there  was  a  gulf,  —  now  known  as  the  Gulf  of  California, — 
but  Ulloa,  on  reaching  the  head,  made  no  attempt  to  explore  it, 
contenting  himself  with  noting  that  the  low  sandy  shores,  about  a 
league  off,  united.  Had  he  sent  a  boat  to  that  "point  of  uniting" 
he  would  have  discovered  the  Colorado  River,  which  there  enters 
the  gulf. 

It  was  now  Mendoza's  turn.  Coronado  was  sent  overland  on 
that  great  march  ol  his  to  New  Mexico,  and  Pedro  de  Alarcon  was 
made  head  of  a  maritime  expedition  which  was  to  co-operate. 
Though  Ulloa  had  discovered  no  river  at  the  head  of  the  Gulf  of 
California,  there  seemed  to  be  a  general  idea  prevalent  that  there 
was  such  a  river,  for  Alarcon's  instructions  implied  that  he  was  to 
sail  up  it,  and  keep  in  touch  with  Coronado  as  he  journeyed  to  the 
regions  described  by  Marcos  de  Niza. 

It  was  in  May  of  1540  that  Alarcon  sailed,  with  two  vessels.  At 
Culiacan  he  found  a  third  vessel  which  had  been  sent  on  ahead 
with  supplies.  These  three  vessels  then  proceeded  northward,  and 
when  he  reached  the  spot  where  Ulloa  had  turned  back  he  com- 
bated the  wishes  of  those  of  his  own  company  who  were  desirous 
of  returning  by  sending  out   two  pilots.     These  men  found   the 


90  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

passage  up  which,  with  great  difficulty  and  narrow  escapes  from 
grounding,  the  vessels  passed,  finally  coming  to  anchor  at  the 
mouth  of  a  great  river,  the  current  of  which  was  so  rapid  that  they 
could  scarce  stem  it.  Here  Alarcon  left  his  vessels,  and  taking  two 
shallops,  manned  by  twenty  men  and  two  officers,  he  pushed  his 
way  up  the  river  for  nearly  sixteen  days.  The  Indians  at  first 
were  troublesome,  but  soon  became  more  friendly  and  solicited 
Alarcon  to  remain  and  become  their  chief.  There  is  no  definite 
data  by  which  we  can  determine  exactly  how  high  up  the  Colorado 
River  Alarcon  went.  He  did  not  find  any  news  of  Coronado, 
however,  and  so  returned,  making  the  downward  journey  in  two 
days  and  a  half,  owing  to  the  swift  current.  A  little  later  he  as- 
cended the  river  again  to  a  point  beyond  where  the  river  flowed 
between  high  mountains,  and,  according  to  his  own  statement, 
eighty-five  leagues  from  the  head  of  the  gulf.  It  is  likely,  however, 
that  the  doughty  Spaniard  measured  the  leagues  by  his  feeling  of 
weariness  as  his  boats  were  towed  up  the  sinuous  and  tortuous 
channel  of  the  Colorado.  Scores  of  miles  are  lost  daily  in  this 
manner.  The  banks  are  winding  to  a  degree  seldom  found,  and 
the  river  itself  runs  its  tortuous  course,  first  on  one  side,  then  on  the 
other,  crossing  and  recrossing  until  one  can  no  longer  keep  count 
of  the  times.  So  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  when  Melchior 
Diaz  came  by  land  to  the  spot  where  Alarcon  had  left  letters  at  the 
foot  of  a  large  cross,  he  estimated  the  distance  as  fifteen  leagues 
from  the  mouth.  There  is  great  discrepancy  between  eighty-five 
and  fifteen,  hence  we  are  left  to  conjecture  as  to  whether  Alarcon 
ever  gazed  upon  that  portion  of  the  Colorado  Desert  now  within 
the  confines  of  the  United  States.  General  J.  H.  Simpson,  how- 
ever, believes  that  he  passed  several  miles  beyond  the  junction  of 
the  Gila  with  the  Colorado,  although  it  seems  reasonable  to  expect 
that  had  he  done  so  he  would  have  made  some  note  of  so  important 
a  fact. 

That  Diaz  and  his  party  walked  on  the  Colorado  Desert  is  pretty 
well  assured,  and  to  them  the  honor  of  being  the  first  white  men 
to  explore  the  region  must  be  accorded.  For,  after  reading  Alar- 
con's  letters,  Diaz  followed  the  course  of  the  river  upward  for  five 
or  six  days,  and  then  concluded  to  cross  it  by  means  of  rafts.  The 
Indians  of  the  region  —  the  Cumanas  —  had  not  been  hospitable, 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders  91 

by  any  means,  and  one  of  their  medicine-men  had  endeavored  to 
stop  Alarcon'from  proceeding  farther  up  the  river  by  placing  magic 
reeds  on  the  bank.  These  Indians  were  undoubtedly  the  Yumas. 
Substitute  "  Y  "  for  "  C  "  in  the  name  "  Cumanas  "  and  the  Spanish 
form  of  spelling  the  tribal  name  is  apparent.  To  this  day  the 
Yumas  are  hostile.  The  white  man  is  an  intruder.  They  want  to 
live  alone,  unmolested,  undisturbed. 

Their  craft  and  cunning  in  dealing  with  Diazwere  what  one  now 
familiar  with  them  might  expect.  They  readily  responded  to  his 
request  to  help  make  the  needful  rafts  and  assist  his  soldiers  in 
crossing  the  river.  What  a  chance  was  here!  Get  the  hated 
intruders  separated,  some  on  one  bank,  some  on  the  other,  and 
still  others  on  the  rafts  in  the  act  of  crossing,  and  then  attack  them. 
Strategy  indeed,  not  unworthy  of  soldiers  of  greater  pretensions 
than  our  Yumas.  But  Diaz  was  one  too  many  for  them.  Danger 
had  taught  him  to  meet  craft  with  craft,  cunning  with  cunning. 
One  of  his  soldiers  reported  suspicious  circumstances;  one  of  the 
Indians  was  arrested,  put  under  torture  and  soon  the  whole  plot 
was  revealed.  Open  hostilities  were  now  engaged  in,  and  only  by 
the  use  of  his  superior  weapons  was  Diaz  able  to  drive  the  Yumas 
away  to  the  mountains.  Then,  free  from  interruption,  he  and  his 
party  crossed  the  river  to  the  California  side  and  the  Colorado 
Desert  felt  the  tread  of  its  first  white  explorer.  For  four  days  Diaz 
wandered  on  the  desert.  It  was  a  hard  trip.  The  sands  were  like 
hot  ashes,  he  reports;  the  earth  trembled,  and  the  whole  country 
was  desolate  and  forbidding.  No  wonder  four  days  of  it  satisfied 
him.  He  fled  from  its  scorching  weariness  and  it  saw  him  again 
no  more. 

In  1604  Juan  de  Onate,  the  reconqueror  and  governor  of  New 
Mexico,  marched  from  San  Juan  de  los  Caballeros  (a  small  town 
near  where  Santa  Fe  now  stands)  to  the  west,  with  the  intention  of 
discovering  a  new  portion  of  the  Mar  del  Sur  (South  Sea,  or  what 
we  now  know  as  the  Pacific  Ocean).  From  this  journey  he  hoped 
to  gain  fame  and  wealth.  The  conquests  of  Cortes  and  others 
inflamed  the  minds  of  the  earlier  explorers,  and  the  country  was 
pretty  well  known  before  hope  was  abandoned  of  startling  results 
from  each  enterprise.  Onate  crossed  New  Mexico  and  left  his 
autograph  chiseled  in  stone  upon  the  interesting  rock  known  as 


92  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

"El  Morro."  He  reached  the  Colorado  River  by  the  Bill  Williams 
fork  and  had  various  adventures  with  the  Mohaves,  and  on  the 
twenty-third  of  January,  1605,  reached  tide-water.  He  christened 
the  port  "San  Pablo"  and  then  returned  to  New  Mexico.  It  must 
have  been  on  his  return  trip  that  he  stopped  at  El  Morro,  for  he 
reached  San  Juan  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  April,  and  the  date  of  the 
inscription  is  April  16,  though  the  latter  says  1606  while  the 
records  give  it  1605. 

From  this  time  on  we  know  of  no  white  man  visiting  the  desert 
until  after  the  missions  in  Alta  California  were  established.  The 
peninsula  of  California  was  discovered,  Jesuit  missions  were 
founded  and  conducted   for   seventy  years,  and  then  came  the 

movement  for  the  colonization 
and  missionizing  of  Alta  California 
which  I  have  fully  treated  in  my 
"In  and  Out  of  the  old  Missions  of 
California."  After  the  Franciscans 
had  established  some  of  their  mis- 
sions in  Alta  California  it  was 
found  to  be  too  long  a  journey  to 
reach  them  only  by  way  of  the  gulf 
and  up  the  peninsula.  The  mis- 
sionaries in  Northern  Sonora  had 
made   several   entradas   toward   the 

Colorado  River,  and  one  of  them, 
Founding  mesquite  beans  .  ,  ' 

Francisco  Garces,  the  most  indefat- 
igable of  all,  save  the  Jesuit  Padre  Kino,  in  1771,  came  from 
San  Xavier  del  Bac,  near  Tucson,  crossed  the  Colorado  and 
made  some  confused  wanderings  on  the  desert  of  which  it  is 
impossible  to  give  any  connected  account. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  at  this  time  there  were  no  white 
men  in  Arizona  except  at  the  few  missions  among  the  Pimas 
and  the  Hopi,  and  none  in  California  save  at  the  five  missions 
already  established.  The  whole  region  across  Arizona  and 
California,  until  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass  was  reached,  was  one  of 
horror  and  desolation  even  to  these  experienced  travelers. 

The  first  Christian  to  make  the  whole  trip  across  the  desert 
from  San  Gabriel  to  the  presidio  of  Tubac  (forty  miles  south  of 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders  93 

the  present  Tucson,  Arizona)  was  an  Indian,  Sebastian  by  name, 
who  had  fled  from  the  mission  with  his  parents  and  wife.  _  He 
had  wandered  far  to  the  east  to  avoid  meeting  soldiers  who 
would  return  him  as  a  deserter.  His  family  all  perished,  either 
by  hostile  Indians  or  the  hardships  they  had  to  endure,  but  there 
is  no  doubt  but  that  Sebastian  crossed  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass 
and  traversed  the  desert  to  Yuma,  where  he  was  taken  by  the 
natives  to  the  Pima  and  Papago  country  and  came  in  contact 
with  Captain  Juan  Bautista  de  Anza.  This  gallant  officer  was 
the  commandant  of  the  presidio  of  Tubac,  and  he  had  long 
expressed  his  desire  to  participate  in  the  colonization  of  Cali- 
fornia. 

The  Viceroy  Bucareli  at  length  granted  him  a  license  to  explore 
the  country  from  Tubac  to  the  California  missions  to  see  if  a 
feasible  route  could  be  made  of  it  for  subsequent  travelers  to  and 
from  the  missions,  and  on  the  eighth  day  of  January,  1774,  with 
Sebastian  as  a  guide,  and  Padres  Font  and  Garces  as  spiritual 
advisers,  the  desert  caravan  started.  There  were  thirty-four  men  in 
addition,  with  one  hundred  and  forty  horses  and  sixty-five  cattle. 
On  reaching  the  Colorado  River,  Anza  made  friends  with  Palma, 
a  well-known  Yuma  chief,  who  accompanied  the  party  across 
the  river  as  far  as  a  lagoon  to  the  southwest  which  was  formed 
by  the  Colorado  in  time  of  flood.  Then  for  six  days  Anza  wan- 
dered through  a  country  so  destitute  of  grass  and  water  that  he  was 
compelled  to  return  to  the  lagoon,  and  beg  the  assistance  of  Palma. 
Where  he  wandered  during  these  six  days  it  is  impossible  to  tell,  but 
supposing  the  lagoon  to  the  southwest  of  Yuma  to  be  below  the 
Mexican  line  it  is  very  probable  that  it  was  in  what  we  know  as 
the  Imperial  Valley.  Palma  now  directed  Anza  which  way  to 
go,  and  the  Indian  followed  after  with  the  baggage,  horses,  and 
cattle.  Thus  guided  Don  Juan  had  little  trouble  in  going  from 
water-hole  to  water-hole  over  the  sand-hills,  and  into  the  Salton 
Sink  north  until  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass  was  reached,  which  they 
called  "Puerto  de  San  Carlos."  Thence  over  the  Santa  Ana 
River  to  San  Gabriel  the  rest  of  the  journey  was  comparatively 
uneventful  and  easy. 

While  Anza  went  on  to  Monterey,  he  sent  Padre  Garces  back, 
over  the  desert,  to  the  Colorado  River,  there  to  await  his  return. 


94  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

Garces  made  the  journey  in  twelve  and  a  half  days,  —  not  bad 
traveling  for  April  weather. 

Anza  was  not  long  behind,  for  he  spent  three  days  only  at  Mon- 
terey and  then  started  back  taking  Garces'  track  at  San  Gabriel. 
How  those  old-day  rollickers  lived  on  horseback!  Here  is  a 
leader  of  an  expedition  who  has  just  made  the  terrific  journey 
of  a  thousand  miles  over  an  untried  desert  from  below  Tucson, 
Arizona,  not  in  a  Pullman  or  a  comfortable  Southern  Pacific 
chair  car,  but  on  horseback,  carrying  all  his  supplies  with  him, 
starting  back  three  days  after  his  arrival.  Surely  there  is  a  vast 
difference  between  the  endurance  of  the  men  of  the  present  day, 
who  would  no  more  think  of  riding  a  horse  a  thousand  miles  than 
they  would  of  walking  that  distance,  and  the  old  Spanish  soldiers 
who  regarded  such  trips  as  a  part  of  their  everyday  life. 

And  this  journey,  successfully  completed,  was  but  preliminary 
to  a  second  one  taken  over  the  same  country  in  1775,  when,  with 
240  persons,  and  over  a  thousand  horses,  mules,  and  sheep, 
he  journeyed  from  Tubac  to  San  Francisco.  He  it  was  who 
located  the  site  of  the  presidio  and  mission  in  the  City  of  Destiny 
by  the  Golden  Gate.  That  was  a  wonderful  trip  over  the  desert, 
and  it  required  no  little  courage,  leadership,  and  knowledge  to 
get  such  a  party  safely  over  the  sandy  wastes.  It  was  mid- 
winter, the  cold  was  intense,  for,  strange  to  say,  they  were  met 
day  after  day  with  storms  of  snow,  hail,  and  rain.  And  when  it 
is  cold  on  the  desert  the  thinned  blood  feels  it  more;  and  we 
are  not  surprised  at  the  record  in  the  commandant's  diary 
that  his  people  suffered  cruelly.  There  was  considerable  sickness 
but  no  fatality.  About  a  hundred  head  of  stock  were  lost, 
as  water  was  so  scarce  that  the  fevered  animals  could  not  be 
restrained  from  breaking  away  in  search  of  it.  The  party 
often  had  to  be  divided  so  that  all  should  not  reach  the 
water-holes,  with  their  poor  and  scant  supply,  at  the  same 
time.  Wells  were  dug  in  many  places.  The  scarcity  of 
feed  for  the  animals  was  another  source  of  great  discomfort. 
There  were  a  number  of  women  in  the  party,  twenty-nine  of  them 
being  soldiers'  wives,  and  on  the  journey  eight  infants  were  born. 
The  route  taken  was  about  the  same  as  before,  across  the  Colorado 
River  at  Yuma,  over  the  Salton  Basin  and  through  the  Mesquite 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders 


95 


country  to  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  and  thence  to  San  Gabriel 
and  Monterey. 

From  this  time  on  this  route  was  often  followed,  though  in  1781 
it  was  brought  into  sad  repute  by  the  horrible  massacre  of  the 
Spaniards  at  Yuma.  In  1780,  Garces  had  succeeded  in  establish- 
ing two  mission  pueblos  there,  but  the  influence  of  the  friendly 
Palma  was  not  sufficient  to  curb  the  spirit  of  hostility  the  Yumas 
had  always  felt  at  the  presence  of  the  strangers.  In  June,  1781, 
Rivera,  who  had  held  the  offices  of  governor  of  both  Lower  and 
Upper  California,  arrived  at  Yuma  with  a  band  of  colonists  bound 
for  Los  Angeles  and  the 
Santa  Barbara  region.  He 
crossed  the  Colorado,  dis- 
patched his  party  over  the 
desert  and  then  encamped 
on  the  eastern  bank,  with 
eleven  or  twelve  men.  On 
Tuesday,  July  17,  the  In- 
dians fell  upon  the  white 
settlers  at  the  two  pueblo 
missions  and  also  upon 
Rivera  and  his  soldiers  and 
succeeded  in  massacring 
forty-six  of  them,  the  ex- 
governor  among  the  num- 
ber. 

Ensign  Limon,  who  had 


Padre  Garces     *i~ 

at  his  camp-fire 


escorted  the  settlers  to  San  Gabriel,  was  the  one  to  discover 
the  dreadful  facts  from  the  California  side.  He  was  returning 
with  his  nine  men,  when  some  of  the  desert  natives  informed  him 
of  the  terrible  outbreak.  Leaving  two  men  in  charge  of  his 
animals  he  rushed  ahead,  using  great  care,  however,  in  order  to 
reconnoiter.  Blackened  ruins  of  buildings,  dead  bodies  lying 
around  in  the  plaza,  and  a  fierce  attack  upon  himself  in  which  he 
and  his  son  were  wounded,  were  forceful  corroboration  of  the 
hideous  stories.  Hastily  he  started  to  return  to  San  Gabriel, 
only  to  find  the  two  men  left  with  the  animals  killed.  Terror- 
stricken  the  wounded  man   made  his  weary  way  back  over  the 


96  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

desert  to  San  Gabriel,  where  the  news  was  received  with  con- 
sternation. 

It  was  determined  to  punish  the  Yumas,  and  two  forces  were 
sent  out  at  different  times,  one  from  Sonora,  and  the  other  from 
the  California  side,  but  it  was  a  poor-spirited  campaign  and  next 
to  nothing  was  accomplished.  Suffice  it  to  say  the  ringleaders 
were  never  caught  or  punished  and  the  general  effect  of  both 
efforts  was  to  confirm  the  Indians  in  their  hostility  without  incul- 
cating in  them  any  fear  of  the  Spanish  power.  Hence  in  future 
the  route  over  the  Colorado  to  Sonora  was  regarded  with  great 
disfavor,  though  we  have  record  of  its  being  occasionally  used. 

In  1782,  Don  Pedro  Fages,  afterward  governor,  made  the  first 
trip  ever  recorded  from  the  Colorado  River  to  San  Diego;  a  weary 
and  arduous  journey  as  all  who  have  taken  it  since  can  testify. 
In  1783  an  ensign  tried  to  follow  this  route  and  see  if  it  could  be 
made  practicable  for  constant  use,  but  he  came  no  farther  than 
the  mountains  overlooking  the  desert  and  then  returned.  For 
several  years  desultory  explorations  took  place  from  San  Diego, 
but  the  route  was  too  arduous  to  lead  to  its  adoption  and  few  ever 
used  it  until  the  coming  of  the  United  States  Army  of  the  West 
under  Kearney  in  1847,  after  which  it  became  the  Southern 
route  for  the  gold  seekers. 

One  of  the  desert's  notable  pathfinders  was  Jonathan  Trum- 
bull Warner  (commonly  known  as  Juan  Jose  Warner),  from  whom 
Warner's  Ranch  obtained  its  name.  Born  in  Lyme,  Connecticut, 
in  1807,  ill  health  at  the  age  of  twenty-three  forced  him  to  seek 
a  milder  climate.  He  fell  into  that  great  current  of  humanity 
that  was  sweeping  westward  and  the  end  of  the  year  found  him 
in  St.  Louis.  The  following  year  he  formed  an  expedition  to 
Santa  Fe,  and  soon  after  his  arrival  there  struck  out,  with  eleven 
men,  under  the  leadership  of  fackson,  Waldo,  and  Young  for 
California.  He  crossed  the  Colorado  River  below  the  Gila,  and 
then  in  November  struck  across  the  desert  to  San  Diego  via  San 
Luis  Rey,  which  he  duly  reached.  After  merchandizing  in  Los 
Angeles  and  engaging  in  other  ventures,  he  was  granted  the  ranch 
that  bears  his  name,  having  been  naturalized  as  a  Mexican  citizen, 
and  in  1844  he  moved  therewith  his  family,  living  there  for  thirteen 
years  until  driven  off  by  an  uprising  of  the  Indians. 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders  97 

In  November,  183 1,  Dr.  Thomas  Coulter,  an  English  scientist, 
visited  California,  and  made  a  trip  from  Monterey  via  San  Gabriel 
to  the  Colorado  River  and  back.  He  rode  over  the  San  Felipe 
Pass  and  crossed  the  desert  by  the  southern  route.  His  map 
shows  that  he  went  by  the  way  of  Pala. 

Perhaps  one  of  the  most  sensational  and  talked-about  rides 
over  the  desert  was  that  made  in  1834,  by  a  special  courier,  said 
to  have  been  Rafael  Amador,  who  rode  from  the  City  of  Mexico 
to  Monterey  in  forty-eight  days  (some  say  forty  days).  Think 
of  that  lonely  trip,  constantly  beset  by  dangers  from  hostile  Indians 
and  never  free  from  the  dread  of  death  by  starvation,  thirst,  and 


Rafael  Amador's  ride 

losing  his  way.  It  was  July  when  he  started,  and  August  is 
always,  a  terribly  hot  month.  The  Yumas  caught  him  and  threat- 
ened his  life,  only  releasing  him  after  stripping  him  of  all  his 
equipment  and  most  of  his  clothing,  besides  stealing  his  horse. 
He  crossed  the  Colorado  Desert  at  that  scorching  time  on  foot, 
and  for  three  days  was  without  water.  He  took  the  hardest 
route  and  struck  out  over  the  mountains  to  the  south  and  finally 
reached  San  Luis  Rey  almost  dead  with  fatigue  and  the  hardships 
he  had  undergone. 

It  should  be  stated  that  he  was  bearing  a  dispatch  from  the 
Mexican  dictator,  Santa  Anna,  to  Governor  Figueroa,  rescinding 
prior  instructions  which  had  been  issued  requiring  the  governor 


98  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

to  hand  over  his  office  to  Don  Jose  Maria  Hijar.  Whether  his 
mission  was  suspected  or  not  I  cannot  say,  but  it  is  claimed  that  a 
friend  of  Hijar's  ambushed  and  captured  the  courier  and  then 
urged  Hijar  to  hurry  to  Monterey  and  seize  the  governorship 
before  the  message  could  prevent.  But  Hijar  refused,  and  the 
courier  was  released  and  allowed  to  proceed  on  his  way.  His 
reward  for  the  great  trip  is  said  to  have  been  three  thousand 
dollars. 

It  was  in  1826  that  the  first  trapper  of  the  United  States  entered 
the  Colorado  Desert.  Jedediah  Smith  was  an  adventurous  spirit 
who,  with  fifteen  companions,  left  Utah,  near  the  Great  Salt  Lake, 
and  wandered  down  the  Gila  to  the  Colorado.  He  crossed  the 
river  where  the  Mohaves  dwell  and  was  greatly  impressed  by  their 
kind  hospitality.  Not  only  did  they  supply  the  party  with  fresh 
provisions,  but  they  gave  them  horses  which  they  had  stolen  from 
the  Spaniards,  and  then  supplied  them  with  guides  to  direct  their 
way  over  the  desert  to  the  mission  of  San  Gabriel.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  their  route  took  them  to  the  northern  extremity  of 
what  is  now  Riverside  County,  as  they  entered  the  San  Gabriel 
Valley  over  El  Cajon  Pass,  near  San  Bernardino. 

Though  not  on  this  trip  with  Jedediah,  Thomas  L.  Smith, 
generally  known  as  "  Pegleg"  Smith,  was  one  of  his  later  compan- 
ions, who  had  many  wild  adven  ures,  some  of  them  inseparably 
connecting  his  name  with  the  Colorado  Desert  as  is  recorded  in 
another  chapter. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  several  trappers  and  hunters  crossed 
the  Colorado  Desert  between  the  time  of  Smith's  explorations 
and  the  coming  of  Kearney's  Army  of  the  West. 

When  the  general  reached  the  Colorado  in  November,  1846,  he 
intercepted  a  party  of  Mexicans  going  from  California  to  Sonora 
with  five  hundred  horses  to  strengthen  General  Castro's  forces. 
On  one  of  these  men  were  found  dispatches  telling  of  the  revolt 
against  the  American  occupancy  of  California,  and  this  hastened 
Kearney's  actions.  He  pushed  on  across  the  desert  to  Carrizo 
Creek,  through  the  San  Felipe  Pass,  only  to  meet  with  disaster 
and  temporary  defeat  from  the  forces  of  Andreas  Pico  at  San 
Pasqual.  Colonel  W.  H.  Emory's  description  of  the  desert  journey 
is  too  interesting  and  valuable  to  lose,  so  I  here  quote  largely 
from  it. 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders 


99 


"After  crossing,  we  ascended  the  river  three-quarters  of  a  mile, 
where  we  encountered  an  immense  sand  drift,  and  from  that  point 
until  we  halted  the  great  highway  between  Sonora  and  California 
lies  along  the  foot  of  this  drift,  which  is  continually  but  slowly 
encroaching  down  the  valley. 

"We  halted  at  a  dry  arroyo,  a  few  feet  to  the  left  of  the  road 
leading  into  the  Colorado,  where  there  was  a  hole  five  or  six  feet 
deep,  which  by  deepening  furnished  sufficient  water  for  the  men. 
We  tied  our  animals  to  the  mesquite  trees,  Prosopis  glandulosa, 
and  remarking  on  the  way  that  they  showed  an  inclination  to  eat 
the  bean  of  this  plant,  we  sent  the  men  to  collect  them;  the  few 
gathered  were  eaten  with  avidity. 

"November   26.  —  The   dawn   of  day   found   every   man   on 


imMi 


mm  & 


j    ~  The  weary  march  of 
Kearney's  soldiers 


horseback,  and  a  bunch  of  grass  from  the  Colorado  tied  behind 
him  on  the  cantle  of  the  saddle.  After  getting  well  under  way, 
the  keen  air  at  260  Fahrenheit  made  it  most  comfortable  to  walk. 
We  traveled  four  miles  along  the  sand  butte  in  the  same  direction 
as  yesterday.  We  mounted  the  buttes  and  found,  after  a  short 
distance,  a  firmer  footing  covered  with  fragments  of  lava,  rounded 
by  water,  and  many  agates.  We  were  now  fairly  on  the  desert.  .  .  . 
"After  traveling  twenty-four  miles  we  reached  the  Alamo  or 
Cottonwood.  Notwithstanding  the  name  there  was  no  cotton- 
wood  here,  but  Francisco  said  it  was  doubtless  the  place,  the  tree 
having  probably  been  covered  by  the  encroachment  of  the  sand, 
which  here  terminates  in  a  bluff  forty  feet  high,  making  the  arc  of 
a  great  circle  convexing  to  the  north. 

Vol.  I.— 7 


100         The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

"Descending  this  bluff,  we  found  in  what  had  been  the  channel 
of  a  stream,  now  overgrown  with  a  few  ill-conditioned  mesquite, 
a  large  hole  where  persons  had  evidently  dug  for  water.  It  was 
necessary  to  halt  to  rest  our  animals,  and  the  time  was  occupied 
in  deepening  this  hole,  which  after  a  long  struggle  showed  signs 
of  water.  An  old  champagne  basket,  used  by  one  of  the  officers 
as  a  pannier,  was  lowered  in  the  hole  to  prevent  the  crumbling 
of  the  sand.  After  many  efforts  to  keep  out  the  caving  sand,  a 
basketwork  of  willow  twigs  effected  the  object,  and  much  to  the 
joy  of  all  the  basket,  which  was  now  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  below 
the  surface,  filled  with  water.  The  order  was  now  given  for  each 
mess  to  draw  a  camp-kettle  of  water,  and  Captain  Turner  was 
placed  in  charge  of  the  spring  to  see  fair  distribution. 

"When  the  messes  were  supplied  the  firmness  of  the  banks  gave 
hopes  that  the  animals  might  be  watered,  and  each  party  was 
notified  to  have  their  animals  in  waiting;  the  important  business 
of  watering  them  commenced,  upon  the  success  of  which  depended 
the  possibility  of  their  advancing  with  us  a  foot  farther. 

"Two  buckets  for  each  animal  were  allowed.  At  10  a.m., 
when  my  turn  came,  Captain  Moore  had  succeeded,  by  great 
exertions,  in  opening  another  well,  and  the  one  already  opened 
began  to  flow  more  freely,  in -consequence  of  which  we  could 
afford  to  give  each  animal  as  much  as  he  could  drink.  The 
poor  brutes,  none  of  which  had  tasted  water  in  forty-eight  hours, 
and  some  not  for  the  last  sixty,  clustered  round  the  well  and 
scrambled  for  precedence. 

"At  12  o'clock  I  had  watered  all  my  animals,  thirty-seven  in 
number,  and  turned  over  the  well  to  Captain  Moore.  The 
animals  still  had  an  aching  void  to  fill,  and  all  night  was  heard  the 
munching  of  sticks,  and  their  piteous  cries  for  more  congenial 
food. 

"November  27  and  28.  —  To-day  we  started  a  few  minutes  after 
sunrise.  Our  course  was  a  winding  one,  to  avoid  the  sand- 
drifts.  The  Mexicans  had  informed  us  that  the  water  of  the 
salt  lake,  some  thirty  or  forty  miles  distant,  was  too  salt  to  use, 
but  other  information  led  us  to  think  the  intelligence  was  wrong. 
We  accordingly  tried  to  reach  it;  about  3  p.m.  we  disengaged 
ourselves  from  the  sand  and  went  due  (magnetic)  west,  over  an 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders  101 

immense  level  of  clay  detritus,  hard  and  smooth  as  a  bowling 
green. 

"The  desert  was  almost  destitute  of  vegetation,  now  and  then 
an  ephedra,  Oenothera,  or  bunches  of  aristida  were  seen,  and 
occasionally  the  level  was  covered  with  a  growth  of  obione  canes- 
cens  and  a  low  bush  with  small  oval  plaited  leaves,  unknown. 

"The  heavy  sand  had  proved  too  much  for  many  horses  and 
some  mules,  and  all  the  efforts  of  their  drivers  could  bring  them 
no  farther  than  the  middle  of  this  dreary  desert.  About  eight 
o'clock,  as  we  approached  the  lake,  the  stench  of  dead  animals 
confirmed  the  reports  of  the  Mexicans  and  put  to  flight  all  hopes 
of  our  being  able  to  use  the  water. 

"The  basin  of  the  lake,  as  well  as  I  could  judge  at  night,  is 
about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  long  and  half  a  mile  wide.  The 
water  had  receded  to  a  pool,  diminished  to  one-half  its  size,  and 
the  approach  to  it  was  through  a  thick  soapy  quagmire.  It 
was  wholly  unfit  for  man  or  brute,  and  we  studiously  kept  the 
latter  from  it,  thinking  that  the  use  of  it  would  but  aggravate 
their  thirst. 

"One  or  two  of  the  men  came  in  late  and  rushing  to  the  lake 
threw  themselves  down,  and  took  many  swallows  before  discov- 
ering their  mistake;  but  the  effect  was  not  injurious  except  that 
it  increased  their  thirst. 

"A  few  mesquite  trees  and  a  chenopodiaceous  shrub  bordered 
the  lake,  and  on  these  our  mules  munched  till  they  had  sufficiently 
refreshed  themselves,  when  the  call  to  saddle  was  sounded  and 
we  groped  silently  our  way  in  the  dark.  The  stoutest  animals 
now  began  to  stagger,  and  when  day  dawned  scarcely  a  man 
was  seen  mounted. 

"With  the  sun  rose  a  heavy  fog  from  the  southwest,  no  doubt 
from  the  gulf,  and  sweeping  toward  us,  enveloped  us  for  two  or 
three  hours,  wetting  our  blankets  and  giving  relief  to  the  animals. 
Before  it  had  dispersed  we  came  to  a  patch  of  sunburned  grass. 

"When  the  fog  had  entirely  dispersed  we  found  ourselves  enter- 
ing a  gap  in  the  mountains,  which  had  been  before  us  for  four 
days.  The  plain  was  crossed  but  we  had  not  found  water. 
The  first  valley  we  reached  was  dry,  and  it  was  not  till  12  o'clock  M. 
that  we  struck  Carrizo  (cane)  Creek,  within  half  a  mile  of  one  of  its 


102        The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

sources,  and  although  so  close  to  the  source,  the  sands  had 
already  absorbed  much  of  its  water,  and  left  but  little  running. 
A  mile  or  two  below,  the  creek  entirely  disappeared. 

"We  halted,  having  made  fifty-four  miles  in  the  two  days,  at 
the  source,  a  magnificent  spring,  twenty  or  thirty  feet  in  diameter, 
highly  impregnated  with  sulphur,  and  medicinal  in  its  properties. 
No  vessel  could  be  procured  to  bring  home  some  of  the  water  for 
analysis,  but  I  scraped  a  handful  of  the  salt  which  had  effloresced 
to  the  surface  of  the  adjacent  ground,  and  Professor  Frazer  finds 
it  to  contain  sulphate  of  lime,  magnesia,  and  chloride  of  sodium. 

"The  spring  consisted  of  a  series  of  smaller  springs  or  veins, 
varying  in  temperature  from  68°  to  750.  This  variation,  however, 
may  have  been  owing  to  the  different  exposures  of  the  fountains 
in  which  the  thermometer  was  immersed.  The  growth  was  cane, 
rush,  and  a  coarse  grass,  such  as  is  found  on  the  marshes  near 
the  seashore. 

"The  desert  over  which  we  had  passed,  ninety  miles  from  water 
to  water,  is  an  immense  triangular  plain,  bounded  on  one  side  by 
the  Colorado,  on  the  west  by  the  Cordilleras  of  California,  the 
coast  chain  of  mountains  which  now  encircles  us,  extending 
from  the  Sacramento  River  to  the  southern  extremity  of  Lower 
California,  and  on  the  northeast  by  a  chain  of  mountains,  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  same  spur  noted  on  the  22d  as  running  southeast 
and  northwest.  It  is  chiefly  covered  with  floating  sand,  the 
surface  of  which,  in  various  places,  is  white  with  diminutive  spi- 
nelas,  and  everywhere  over  the  whole  surface  is  found  the  large 
and  soft  mussel  shell. 

"I  have  noted  the  only  two  patches  of  grass  found  during  the 
'Jornada.'  There  were  scattered,  at  wide  intervals,  the  pala- 
foxia  linearis,  atriplex,  enceha  farinosa,  daleas,  euphorbias,  and 
a   simsia  described  by  Dr.  Torrey  as  a  new  species  without  rays. 

"The  southern  termination  of  this  desert  is  bounded  by  the 
Tecate  chain  of  mountains  and  the  Colorado;  but  its  northern 
and  eastern  boundaries  are  undefined,  and  I  should  suppose  from 
the  accounts  of  trappers,  and  others,  who  have  attempted  the 
passage  from  California  to  the  Gila  by  a  more  northern  route, 
that  it  extends  many  days'  travel  beyond  the  chain  of  barren 
mountains  which  bound  the  horizon  in  that  direction. 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders  103 

"The  portal  to  the  mountains  through  which  we  passed  was 
formed  by  immense  buttes  of  yellow  clay  and  sand  with  large  flakes 
of  mica,  and  seams  of  gypsum.  Nothing  could  be  more  forlorn 
and  desolate  in  appearance.  The  gypsum  had  given  some  con- 
sistency to  the  sand  buttes  which  were  washed  into  fantastic 
figures.  One  ridge  formed  apparently  a  complete  circle,  giving 
it  the  appearance  of  a  crater;  and  although  some  miles  to  the  left 
I  should  have  gone  to  visit  it,  supposing  it  to  be  a  crater,  but  my 
mule  was  sinking  with  thirst,  and  water  was  yet  at  some  distance. 
Many  animals  were  left  on  the  road  to  die  of  thirst  and  hunger 
in  spite  of  the  generous  efforts  of  the  men  to  bring  them  to  the 
spring.  More  than  one  was  brought  up  by  one  man  tugging  at 
the  halter  and  another  pushing  up  the  brute  by  placing  his 
shoulder  against  its   buttocks." 

But  though  they  had  entered  the  pass  their  difficulties  were  by 
no  means  over.  Grass  was  luxuriant  at  places  but  very  salt, 
the  water  strongly  resembled  that  at  the  head  of  Carrizo  Creek, 
and  the  earth,  which  was  very  tremulous  for  many  acres  above 
the  pools,  was  covered  with  salt.  The  sharp  thorns  terminating 
every  leaf  of  the  century  plant,  Agava  Americana,  gave  great  dis- 
tress to  the  dismounted  and  wearied  men,  whose  legs  were  now 
almost  bare. 

The  middle  of  the  day  was  intensely  hot  and  the  poor  horses 
and  mules  gave  out  by  the  score.  Though  only  sixteen  miles 
were  traveled  one  day,  many  did  not  arrive  at  camp  until  ten 
o'clock.  The  wolves  or  coyotes  followed  them  in  droves  and 
made  sleep  impossible  as  they  battled  over  the  carcasses  of  the 
abandoned  animals.  Horse  and  mule  meat  were  their  chief 
article  of  food,  save  what  they  could  swallow  of  the  leaves  of  the 
cactus. 

It  was  on  the  first  of  December  that  they  descended  to  the 
deserted  Indian  village  of  San  Felipe.  The  mountains  on  either 
side,  supposed  to  be  from  three  thousand  to  five  thousand  feet  high, 
wereincrusted  on  the  top  with  snow  and  icicles,  and  they  encamped 
in  a  grassy  valley  watered  by  a  warm  stream  which  drained  through 
a  canyon  to  the  north  abreast  of  the  village.  From  here  through 
Warner's  Ranch  to  Agua  Caliente  their  journey  does  not  particu- 
larly concern  us,  though  it  was  a  tragical  ending  to  their  nearly  two 


104  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

thousand  miles  of  weary  traveling  that,  at  San  Pasqual,  eighteen 
of  them,  officers  and  men,  were  killed,  and  thirteen  wounded  by 
the  onslaughts  of  the  Californians. 

This  party  was  soon  afterward  followed  by  another  whose  trip 
was  even  more  arduous,  as  it  was  encumbered  with  a  wagon  train. 
When  General  Kearney  (then  Colonel)  started  from  Fort  Leaven- 
worth for  New  Mexico  and  California  he  succeeded  in  having  two 
troops  of  dragoons  attached  to  his  command.  The  captain  of  one 
of  these  was  P.  St.  George  Cooke.  At  the  same  time  an  officer 
was  sent  to  organize  a  battalion  of  five  hundred  men  from  the 
Mormons  who  had  just  been  expelled  from  Nauvoo,  Illinois, 
which  was  to  follow  to  Santa  Fe.  On  its  arrival  at  Santa  Fe 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Cooke  was  appointed  to  its  command  and 
ordered  to  follow  General  Kearney  with  a  wagon  train,  making  its 
own  road  to  San  Diego. 

It  was  a  frightful  trip  to  undertake:  eleven  hundred  miles,  the 
major  part  of  which  was  through  an  unknown  wilderness  without 
road  or  trail.  Many  of  the  soldiers  of  the  battalion  were  too  old, 
too  young  or  feeble;  it  was  undisciplined;  it  was  already  worn  out, 
for  it  had  marched,  on  foot,  from  Nauvoo,  Illinois,  to  Santa  Fe; 
clothing  was  scant;  there  was  no  money  to  pay  them  and  no  stores 
from  which  clothing  could  be  issued. 

When  the  Gila  was  reached,  sixty  miles  above  the  Colorado, 
Colonel  Cooke  sought  to  lighten  the  rest  of  the  journey  by  con- 
structing a  raft  and  allowing  the  wagons  and  men  to  float  down. 
His  experiment  was  most  unfortunate,  as  it  proved  to  be  a  signal 
failure,  owing  to  the  shallowness  of  the  water  on  the  sand-bars. 
The  difficulties  in  taking  the  wagons  across  the  Colorado  almost 
overcame  both  men  and  mules,  and  it  was  a  weary  and  sorry-look- 
ing outfit  that  began  the  trip  across  the  hardest  portion  of  the 
desert.  When  Carrizo  Creek  was  reached  some  of  the  poor  ani- 
mals had  been  without  water  for  fifty  hours.  Men  and  beasts  were 
almost  exhausted,  and  could  travel  only  a  few  miles  a  day,  and  to 
use  an  Hibernianism,  those  had  to  be  traveled  at  night.  Then 
came  a  great  shock.  After  they  had  ascended  three  miles  of  the 
San  Felipe  divide  with  great  labor  the  canyon  was  found  to  be 
so  narrow  that  they  could  not  get  their  wagons  through.  The 
advance  guard,  the  pioneers,  and  guides  were  unable  to  proceed 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders 


105 


and  one  of  them  coolly  remarked,  "I  believe  we  are  at  a  stand- 
still." I  can  well  imagine  the  feeling  of  desperation  that  came 
over  the  colonel  as  he  saw  those  men  standing  there,  idly 
waiting  for  him  to  come  up,  instead  of  doing  something.  Snatch- 
ing up  the  nearest  axe  he  began  to  hew  away  at  the  rocky  sides, 
doubtless  reinforcing  his  actions  with  emphatic  words.  His  ex- 
ample was  contagious.  Axes  and  hammers  were  brought  —  all 
the  road  tools  had  been  lost  in  the  unfortunate  experiment  at 
pontooning  on  the  Gila  River — -and  soon  the  solid  rock  was 
broken  into  enough  to  allow  of  the  carrying  through  of  the 
wagon  bed,  tilted  on  one  side,  followed 
by  wheels,  also  tilted.  The  last  two 
wagons  only  were  taken  through  by  the 
mules  with  their  loads  undisturbed. 

On  reaching  San  Felipe  news  was 
received  that  led  Cooke  to  change  his 
route  and  aim  for  Los  Angeles  instead  gj, 
of  San  Diego.  It  would  be  interesting  M 
to  follow  his  tracks,  but  space  forbids. 
He  was  thus  kept  for  several  days 
longer  in  the  mountain  region  belonging 
to  the  Colorado  Desert  and  had  some 
experiences  with  the  Indians. 

Possibly  the  next  memorable  ride  over 
the  Colorado  Desert  was  that  made  by  Kit 
Carson  in  March,  1847,  with  Lieutenant 
Beale  to  Washington  with  dispatches. 
He  had  been  on  his  way  East  on  a  similar  message  from  John  C. 
Fremont  when  he  met  Kearney  and  his  army,  and  it  was  on  the 
command  of  Kearney  that  he  had  allowed  his  companion  to  pro- 
ceed with  the  dispatches  while  he  returned  as  guide  to  the 
Army  of  the  West.  He  and  Beale  had  stealthily  found  a  way 
through  the  sentinels  of  the  Californians  after  the  battle  of  San 
Pasqual  and  had  conveyed  the  news  of  the  sad  defeat  to  the 
officers  at  San  Diego.  Hence  Carson  and  Beale  were  both  well 
equipped  to  make  such  a  journey,  and  their  mutual  confidence 
made  their  association  helpful  and  pleasant.  Yet  it  should 
not   be  forgotten   that   Beale   was   at  that   time   suffering;  from 


The  San  Felipe  Pass 


io G  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

a  dangerous  wound.  He  was  so  weak  that  for  twenty  days  Carson 
had  to  lift  him  on  and  off  his  riding  animal.  It  was  not  thought 
he  could  live,  but  when  this  first  and  most  dangerous  part  of  the 
journey  was  ended  he  had  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  take  care 
of  himself.  It  was  this  Lieutenant  Beale  who  was  instrumental  in 
having  camels  brought  into  the  desert. 

The  Mexican  War  resulted  in  the  seizing  and  holding  of  Cali- 
fornia and  New  Mexico  by  the  United  States  and  the  purchase  of 
Arizona.  By  the  terms  of  the  treaties  both  of  Guadaloupe  Hidalgo 
and  the  Gadsden  purchase  it  was  required  that  a  boundary  line 
should  be  jointly  explored  and  run,  and  in  1850-53  John  Russell 
Bartlett,  with  a  competent  corps  of  scientific  assistants,  performed 
that  work  for  the  United  States.  His  chapter  (XXVI)  descriptive 
of  the  trip  from  San  Diego  to  Alamo  Mocho  is  most  interesting. 
Before  I  proceed  to  give  extracts,  however,  let  me  cajl  attention  to 
a  mistake  often  made,  even  to-day,  in  this  last  name.  It  should  be, 
properly,  Alamo  Mocho,  not  Mucho.  Mocho  means  lopped  or 
cropped,  hence  Alamo  Mocho  is  the  "Cottonwood  with  lopped 
branches."  Alamo  Mucho  is  "Many  Cottonwoods."  The  well 
located  here  received  its  name  from  an  old  cottonwood,  the 
branches  of  which  had  fallen  or  had  been  cut  off  for  fire-wood. 

Of  the  journey  as  far  as  San  Felipe  we  have  nothing  now  to  do. 
The  whole  party  embraced  six  wagons,  twenty-five  pack-mules, 
and  about  fifty  officers  and  men,  mounted.  It  was  June  4,  late 
in  the  afternoon,  when  they  reached  the  San  Felipe  Pass  where 
Cooke  had  hammered  and  cut  his  way  through  the  solid  rock. 
Now  let  Bartlett  tell  the  story :  "  This  defile  consists  of  perpendicular 
walls  of  rock  about  fifteen  feet  high,  and  of  a  width  barely  suffi- 
cient for  wagons  to  pass.  In  its  bed  are  large  masses  of  rock  reach- 
ing to  the  axletrees.  At  the  narrowest  point  one  of  the  wagons 
stuck  fast:  but  after  taking  out  the  mules,  by  dint  of  lifting  and 
prying,  we  at  length  got  through.  The  space  here  was  but  two 
inches  wider  than  the  axletrees  of  the  wagons.  There  were  also 
several  steep  and  rocky  descents  where  the  wheels  had  to  be  locked 
and  the  wagons  held  back  with  ropes.  This  pass  was  not  less  than 
three  miles  in  length;  and  should  two  trains  meet  here,  it  would 
prove  a  serious  business  for  both. 

"The  descent   into  the  valley  beyond   continued  gradual  for 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders 


107 


several  miles,  but  at  length  our  course  was  stopped  by  a  bold 
rocky  hill  running  directly  across  it.  This  we  ascended,  over  a 
very  bad  road;  but  bad  as  it  was  it  was  better  than  the  descent, 
which  was  the  most  perfect  breakneck  place  that  a  wagon  ever 
attempted  to  pass.  It  was  exceedingly  steep,  filled  with  large 
loose  rocks,  with  an  occasional  perpendicular  leap  of  three  or 
four  feet.  I  feared  that  our  wagons  would  not  hold  together  even 
if  they  escaped  being  upset.  But  the  Only  accident  that  happened 
was  the  breaking  of  the  two  remaining  barometers,  a  ver}'  serious 
one  for  the  meteorological  observations. 

"At  the  bottom  of  this  hill  we  continued  for  five  or  six  miles 
through  a  valley,  with  no  other  vegetation  than  the  usual  desert 
plants  and  cacti,  accompanied  by  the  great  agave  which  seemed 
to  luxuriate  in  this  barrenness.  At  eleven  o'clock  p.m.  we  reached 
Vallecita,  eighteen  miles 
from  San  Felipe,  where  we 
pitched  our  tents  among  the 
willows. 

"June  3. — Vallecita,  as  its 
name  indicates,  is  a  little 
valley,  surrounded  by  lofty 
and  barren  mountains.""^ 
Pools  of  sulphurous  water  ~" 
are  found  among  the  willow 
bushes,  but  not  a  tree  was  to  A  desert-worn  animal 

be  seen.  The  grass,  too,  had  changed,  having  here  a  wiry  charac- 
ter. A  depot  of  provisions  is  kept  at  this  place,  with  a  file  of  sol- 
diers, for  the  supply  of  Fort  Yuma,  and  of  government  trains  pass- 
ing and  repassing.  A  few  horses  are  also  kept  here,  to  facilitate  the 
communication  between  Fort  Yuma  and  San  Diego.  The  distance 
between  those  places  is  about  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles, 
and  Vallecita  is  about  half-way.  Beyond  it,  toward  the  Colorado, 
there  is  little  or  no  grass,  so  that  trains,  after  they  have  crossed 
the  desert,  usually  stop  a  day  or  two  here  to  recruit  their  animals." 

Not  liking  the  poor  grass  at  Carrizo  the  mules  stole  away  and 
returned  to  Vallecita  and  had  to  be  brought  back.  When  the 
party  came  a  little  nearer  the  desert  they  found  "an  innumer- 
able quantity  of  the  bones  and  dried  carcasses  of  sheep."     There 


Li2*  * . .  -  ■ 


108  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

were  thousands  of  them  ly'ng  in  piles  within  the  space  of  a  hundred 
yards.  Undoubtedly  this  wholesale  slaughter  of  innocents  was 
caused  by  their  traversing  the  desert  and,  after  being  three  or 
four  days  without  water,  they  could  not  be  restrained  from  drink- 
ing themselves  to  death  when  they  reached  Carrizo  Creek. 

The  major  part  of  the  traveling  was  done  in  the  evening  on 
account  of  the  intense  heat,  the  thermometers  often  registering 
as  high  as  no°  to  1140  Fahrenheit  in  the  shade. 

That  evening,  in  order  to  overcome  a  steep  sand-hill,  ten  mules 
had  to  be  hitched  to  each  wagon,  and  one  of  them  was  upset 
and  rolled  over  and  over  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  smashing  the 
medicine  chest. 

The  "day's  march"  to  Alamo  Mocho  was  made  through  the 
night  of  June  6,  and  forty-five'  miles  was  traveled  without  a 
moment's  rest.  "In  long  marches  like  this  with  pack-mules  it 
is  not  considered  advisable  to  stop;  for  no  rest  can  be  given  to  the 
animals  without  relieving  them  of  their  packs,  to  do  which  and 
replace  them  would  require  at  least  two  hours.  If  a  pack-train 
stops  without  relieving  the  mules  of  their  burdens,  the  animals 
lie  down  and  attempt  to  roll,  an  operation  which  disarranges  the 
packs  and  often  does  much  injury.  When  there  is  grass  and 
water  it  is  well,  on  long  marches  by  daylight,  to  rest  an  hour 
or  two  during  the  heat  of  the  day.  Feed  and  water  at  such  times, 
with  rest  from  their  loads,  afford  much  relief,  but  when  there  is 
nothing  to  offer  the  weary  animals,  it  is  decidedly  the  best  course 
to  hasten  on  and  complete  the  journey,  unless  it  is  too  long  to  be 
accomplished  in  a  day. 

"The  desert  here  is  a  vast  open  plain,  extending  as  far  as  the 
eye  can  reach  on  every  side,  except  on  the  southwest,  where  a 
chain  of  mountains  appears  some  thirty  or  forty  miles  distant." 
(This  is  the  range  now  known  as  the  Cocopah  range.)  "The 
undulations  are  few  and  slight.  Near  our  camp  was  a  steep 
bank  about  sixty  feet  high,  extending  for  miles,  and  descending 
to  a  great  depression  or  basin,  which  appears  to  have  been  the 
bed  of  a  lake.  It  was  in  this  bed  that  the  wells  or  pits  were  sunk 
from  which  we  obtained  water." 

This  dry  bed  was  undoubtedly  part  of  the  desert  now  known 
as  the  Imperial  Valley. 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders  109 

The  rest  of  the  journey  was  over  the  same  route  taken  by  Cooke, 
and  while  one  of  hardship  was  similar  in  experience  to  that  of 
all  people  who  are  venturesome  enough  to  face  this  portion  of  the 
desert  during  the  hot  weather. 

Of  the  wold  seekers  that  poured  into  California  in  "the  days 
of  '49,"  many  chose  this  southern  route  in  order  to  avoid  the  high 
mountains  and  the  snow.  It  is  claimed  that  some  8,000  people 
entered  the  Golden  State  by  this  way,  a  few  going  to  San  Diego, 
but  nearly  all  crossing  the  desert  and  reaching  the  mines  either 
by  way  of  Warner's  Ranch  or  through  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass 
and  Los  Angeles. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  the  ferry  was  established  at  the  Colorado 
River  that  laid  the  foundation  for  at  least  one  large  fortune;  and 
from  this  period  also  date  all  the  stories  about  men  locating  on 
the  desert  wells  and  water-holes  and  charging  exorbitant  rates  for 
this  absolute  necessity  of  life  and  travel. 

In  his  "Eldorado,"  Bayard  Taylor  speaks  thus  of  the  horrors 
of  this  desert  route:  "The  emigrants  by  the  Gila  route  gave  a 
terrible  account  of  the  crossing  of  the  Great  Desert,  lying  west 
of  the  Colorado.  They  described  this  region  as  scorching  and 
sterile  —  a  country  of  burning  salt  plains  and  shifting  hills  of  sand, 
whose  only  signs  of  human  visitation  are  the  bones  of  animals 
and  men  scattered  along  the  trails  that  cross  it.  The  corpses  of 
several  emigrants,  out  of  companies  who  passed  before  them, 
lay  half-buried  in  sand,  and  the  hot  air  was  made  stifling  by  the 
effluvia  that  rose  from  the  dry  carcasses  of  hundreds  of  mules. 
There,  if  a  man  faltered,  he  was  gone;  no  one  could  stop  to  lend 
him  a  hand  without  a  likelihood  of  sharing  his  fate.  It  seemed 
like  a  wonderful  Providence  to  these  emigrants,  when  they  came 
suddenly  upon  a  large  and  swift  stream  of  fresh  water  in  the 
midst  of  the  desert,  where,  a  year  previous,  there  had  been 
nothing  but  sterile  sand.  This  phenomenon  was  at  first 
ascribed  to  the  melting  of  snow  on  the  mountains,  but  later  emi- 
grants traced  the  river  to  its  source  in  a  lake  about  half  a  mile  in 
length,  which  had  bubbled  up  spontaneously  from  the  fiery  bosom 
of  the  desert. 

"One  of  the  emigrants  by  the  Sonora  route  told  me  a  story  of 
a  sick  man  who  rode  behind  his  party  day  after  day,  unable  to 


110 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


keep  pace  with  it,  yet  always  arriving  in  camp  a  few  hours  later. 
This  lasted  so  long  that  finally  little  attention  was  paid  to  him 
and  his  absence  one  night  excited  no  apprehension.  Three  days 
passed  and  he  did  not  arrive.  On  the  fourth  a  negro,  traveling 
alone  and  on  foot,  came  into  camp  and  told  them  that  many  miles 
behind  a  man  lying  beside  the  road  had  begged  a  little  water 
from  him  and  asked  him  to  hurry  on  and  bring  assistance.  The 
next  morning  a  company  of  Mexicans  came  up  and  brought  word 
that  the  man  was  dying.  The  humane  negro  retraced  his  steps 
forty  miles,  and  arrived  just  as  the  sufferer  breathed  his  last. 
He  lifted  him  in  his  arms;  in  the  vain  effort  to  speak  the  man 
expired.  The  mule, 
tied  to  a  cactus  by  his  -#■ 

side,  was  already  dead  **  -^  „ 

ot  hunger.  -v 

The  boundary  be- 


He  was  found  dying,  and  near  by  his  mule,  dead 


tween  Mexico  and  the  United  States  duly  determined,  Jefferson 
Davis,  then  Secretary  of  War,  prevailed  upon  Congress  to  au- 
thorize, March  3,  1853,  explorations  for  a  route  for  a  railway 
from  the  Mississippi  River  to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  The  geol- 
ogist of  that  party  was  Professor  Wm.  P.  Blake,  now  of 
the  University  of  Arizona,  and  his  report  is  full  of  interest- 
ing experiences  and  descriptions.  To  him  is  due  the  naming 
of  the  desert  "the  Colorado,"  as  prior  to  his  time  it  was 
referred  to  merely  as  the  desert.  Owing  to  an  error  afterward 
corrected,  Mr.  Blake's  report  confuses  the  two  great  ranges  and 
peaks.  It  speaks  of  the  San  Bernardino  on  the  north  and  the 
San  Gorgonio  on  the  south  of  the  pass.     The  fact  is  that  both  of 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders 


in 


these  peaks  are  in  the  Sierra  San  Bernardino  on  the  north 
side  of  the  pass,  and  the  mountain  to  the  south  is  San  Jacinto, 
the  range  of  which  here  commences.  It  continues  in  a  southerly 
direction  over  the  Mexican  boundary,  where  its  offshoot,  the 
Cocopah  range,  begins,  and  then  forms  a  prominent  feature  of 
the  scenery  of  Lower  California.  Professor  Blake  and  the  sur- 
veying party,  under  Lieutenant  Parke,  traveled  over  the  route 
we  are  now  growing  familiar  with  to  Carrizo  Creek,  and  over  the 
San  Felipe  Pass  to  Warner's  Ranch.  Then  returning  they  took 
the  Kearney  and  Cooke  route  to  the  Colorado  River. 

Blake  in  his  report  tells  of  traveling  from  the  Big  Lagoon  to 
Alamo  Mocho.  "A  mile  or  two  beyond  the  Big  Lagoon  we  came 
to  the  edge  of  another  and  smaller  one,  called  the  Little  Lagoon. 


The  way  the  pioneers  crossed  the  desert 


It  is  much  like  the  first,  except  that  it  is  bordered  with  mesquite 
trees,  which,  in  some  places,  grow  very  thickly  together.  We 
passed  two  canal-like  channels,  or  wide  gullies,  in  the  surface, 
with  mesquite  trees  growing  in  the  bottom,  and  evidences  of  the 
presence  of  water  at  a  former  period.  .  .  .  These  channels 
probably  communicate  with  the  two  lagoons,  and  may  be  the 
bed  of  the  stream  called  New  River,  so  called  from  the  fact 
of  its  sudden  appearance  in  1849.  At  that  time  the  Colorado 
River  was  very  high,  and  broke  over  a  part  of  its  banks  between 
the  mouth  of  the  Gila  and  the  head  of  the  gulf.  The  water 
flowed  inland,  running  backward  through  the  desert  toward  the 
center  of  the  valley  once  occupied  by  the  ancient  lake." 

The  emigrants  of  1849  were  much  delighted  and  relieved  to 
find  this  river,  though  Major  Emory  in  1846  does  not  mention  it. 


112  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

There  is  no  doubt  whatever  but  that  it  has  existed  ever  since  the 
Colorado  Desert  was  formed,  subject  of  course  to  many  and 
various  changes  of  channel,  course,  and  level.  Through  it  the 
overflow  waters  of  the  river  reached  the  lagoons  —  what  we 
now  call  the  Salton  Sink. 

One  of  the  strangest  sights  ever  witnessed  on  the  Colorado 
Desert  was  when  a  drove  of  camels  crossed  it  in  going  from  Fort 
Tejon  to  Albuquerque.  Owing  to  the  heat  of  the  desert,  the 
scarcity  of  water  and  feed,  and  the  hostile  nature  of  the  Indians, 
the  difficulties  of  transcontinental  transportation  were  such  as 
to  daunt  any  Secretary  of  War,  and  for  several  years  efforts  were 
made  in  Congress  to  obtain  an  appropriation  for  importing  a 
drove  of  camels  for  transportation  purposes.  Jefferson  Davis 
was  largely  instrumental  in  finally  obtaining  the  appropriation 
in  March,  1855.  A  herd  of  thirty-three  animals  was  bought  in 
Africa,  —  nine  dromedaries  or  runners,  twenty-three  camels  of 
burden,  and  one  calf.  Among  them  were  two  two-humped 
Bactrian  males  for  use  in  breeding  with  the  Arabian  female. 
Six  Arabs,  one  of  them  a  Bedouin  of  the  desert,  and  a  professed 
camel  doctor,  came  over  with  the  herd,  which  was  successfully 
transported  from  Smyrna  to  Indianola,  Texas,  where  they  landed 
May  14,  1856.  After  a  few  days'  rest  they  were  marched  by 
easy  stages  to  San  Antonio  and  thence  to  Green  Valley,  sixty 
miles  farther  on.  Here  they  camped  and  experiments  were  made. 
One  day,  Major  Wayne,  who  was  in  charge,  sent  three  six-mule 
teams,  with  a  wagon  to  each  team,  and  six  camels  to  San  Antonio 
for  a  supply  of  oats.  In  going  the  camels  were  held  back  to 
accommodate  the  slower  pace  of  the  mules.  Returning,  the  camels 
carried  3,648  pounds  of  oats,  while  the  wagons  brought  1,800 
pounds  each.  Thus  three  camels  were  equal  to  six  mules  and  a 
wagon,  and,  in  addition,  the  camels  came  to  camp  in  two  and  a 
half  days,  while  the  mules  were  nearly  five  days  in  covering  the 
distance. 

The  great  strength  of  the  camel  was  demonstrated  at  Indianola. 
A  number  of  people  had  expressed  their  skepticism  as  to  the  ability 
of  the  camel  to  carry  heavy  burdens,  so  Major  Wayne  sent  for  one 
of  the  best  of  the  herd,  and,  having  caused  it  to  kneel,  ordered  two 
bales  of  hay,  each  weighing  three  hundred  and  fourteen  pounds, 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders  113 

placed  upon  it.  The  knowing  bystanders  were  convinced  that 
the  camel  could  not  rise  with  such  a  load,  but  they  laughed  in  scorn 
when  the  major  ordered  two  more  bales  piled  on,  making  an 
aggregate  weight  of  one  thousand  two  hundred  fifty-six  pounds. 
To  the  amazement  of  all,  and  to  the  utter  confusion  of  the  scoffers, 
the  camel  at  the  word  of  command  easily  rose  and  walked  ofF  with 
his  burden. 

Another  herd  of  forty-one  animals  was  bought  and  brought  over 
by  Lieutenant  Porter,  landing  in  Indianola,  February  10,  1857. 

In  the  fall  of  this  year  Lieutenant  Edward  Fitzgerald  Beale  was 
ordered  to  open  a  wagon  road  from  Fort  Defiance,  New  Mexico, 
to  the  eastern  frontiers  of  California,  and  a  part  of  the  herd  of 
camels  was  put  at  his  disposal  for  this  expedition.  The  journey 
occupied  forty-eight  days  through  an  unexplored  wilderness  of 
forest,  and  plain,  and  desert,  the  Colorado  River  being  reached 
October  18.  Lieutenant  Beale  was  most  enthusiastic  in  speak- 
ing of  the  work  performed  by  the  camels  on  this  arduous  trip. 
He  says  that  they  saved  the  members  of  the  expedition  from  many 
hardships,  and  excited  the  admiration  of  the  whole  party  by  their 
ability  and  willingness  to  perform  the  tasks  set  them.  He  started 
with  the  determination  that  the  experiment  should  be  most  thor- 
ough, and  subjected  the  camels  to  trials  which  no  other  animals 
could  possibly  have  endured.  On  the  desert  they  carried  the  water 
for  the  mules;  traversed  stretches  of  country  covered  with  the 
sharpest  volcanic  rock  without  injury  to  their  feet;  climbed  with 
heavy  packs  over  mountains  where  the  unloaded  mules  found  it 
difficult  to  go  even  with  the  assistance  of  the  dismounted  riders; 
and,  to  the  surprise  of  all  the  party,  plunged  into  rivers  without 
hesitation  and  swam  them  with  ease.  The  lieutenant  concluded 
that  he  would  rather  have  one  of  the  camels  for  such  work  than  four 
of  the  best  of  his  mules. 

With  such  an  introduction  it  is  a  source  of  wonder  that  the 
camels  are  not  in  use  to-day.  But  adverse  circumstances  soon 
arose.  The  officers  who  knew  how  to  handle  the  camels  were 
transferred  elsewhere,  the  mule  drivers  were  incompetent  to  direct 
camels  and  unwilling  to  learn,  and  some  of  the  creatures'  supposed 
virtues  were  found  to  be  vices.  As  J.  M.  Guinn  writes :  "  He  could 
travel  sixteen  miles  an  hour.     Abstractly  that  was  a  virtue;  but 

Vol.  I.  —  S 


114  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

when  camp  was  struck  in  the  evening  and  he  was  turned  loose  to 
sup  off  the  succulent  sage-brush,  either  to  escape  the  noise  and 
profanity  of  the  camp  or  to  view  the  country  he  was  always  seized 
with  a  desire  to  take  a  pasear  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  before 
supper.  While  this  took  only  an  hour  or  two  of  his  time,  it  involved 
upon  his  unfortunate  driver  the  necessity  of  spending  half  the  night 
in  camel  chasing;  for  if  he  was  not  rounded  up  there  was  a  delay 
of  half  the  next  day  in  starting  the  caravan.  He  could  carry  a 
ton  —  this  was  a  commendable  virtue  —  but  when  two  heavily 
laden  'ships  of  the  desert'  collided  on  a  narrow  trail,  as  they  always 
did  when  an  opportunity  offered,  and  tons  of  supplies  were  scat- 
tered over  miles  of  plain  and  the  unfortunate  camel  pilots  had  to 
gather  up  the  flotsam  of  the  wreck,  it  is  not  strange  that  the  mari- 
ners of  the  arid  wastes  anathematized  the  whole  camel  race  from 
the  beast  the  prophet  rode  down  to  the  smallest  imp  of  Jefferson 
Davis'  importation." 

The  army  horses  and  mules  also  were  said  to  share  the  antipathy 
of  the  men.  A  camel  was  enough  to  stampede  a  whole  herd,  but 
this,  as  well  as  the  other  objections,  could  have  been  overcome 
easily  had  some  officer  had  charge  with  intelligence  and  interest 
sufficient  to  teach  the  men  how  to  handle  the  African  animals. 

When  the  Civil  War  broke  out  the  camel  proposition  was  almost 
forgotten.  The  herd  was  distributed  among  strangers  who  reported 
more  and  more  adversely  upon  them.  Finally  orders  were  issued 
and  the  herd  sold,  most  of  them  doubtless  finding  their  way  into 
menageries  and  zoological  gardens.  A  few,  however,  escaped, 
and  ever  since  there  float  in  occasional  reports  of  one  or  more 
camels  having  been  seen  on  the  deserts  of  Southern  Arizona. 

As  a  preliminary  to  the  building  of  a  railway  a  stage  line  across 
the  desert  was  started  in  August  and  September  of  1857.  The 
San  Antonio  and  San  Diego  semimonthly  stage  it  was  called. 
I.  C.  Woods  was  its  founder  and  James  Burch  acted  as  contractor. 

This  continued  for  a  year,  when  the  Butterfield  Stage-coach  Line 
was  inaugurated,  semiweekly,  under  a  six  years'  contract  with  the 
Postmaster-General  at  six  hundred  thousand  dollars  a  year.  In 
another  chapter  I  give  an  account  of  the  ride  across  the  desert. 
The  route  reached  from  San  Francisco  to  St.  Louis,  and  the  travel- 
ing  time  was    generally  from    twenty  to  twenty-two  days.     On 


Explorers  and  Pathfinders  115 

special  occasions,  as  the  transmission  of  a  presidential  message, 
it  has  been  done  in  sixteen. 

Of  all  the  later  travelers  over  the  desert  none  has  written  so 
vividly  and  interestingly  as  Clarence  King,  who,  in  his  "Mountain- 
eering in  California,"  tells  of  the  trip  he  made  from  La  Paz,  in 
May,  1866,  to  San  Bernardino.  Of  the  desert  he  says  it  "lies 
under  the  east  slope  of  the  great  chain,  and  stretches  eastward 
sometimes  as  far  as  five  hundred  miles,  varied  by  successions  of 
bare,  white  ground,  effervescing  under  the  hot  sun  with  alkaline 
salts,  plains  covered  by  the  low,  ashy-hued  sage  plant,  high,  barren, 
rocky  ranges,  which  are  folds  of  metamorphic  rocks,  and  piled-up 
lavas  of  red  and  yellow  colors;  all  overarched  by  a  sky  which  is  at 
one  time  of  a  hot,  metallic  brilliancy,  and  again  the  tenderest." 

In  1881-84  tne  lines  of  the  Southern  Pacific  railway  were  laid, 
following  in  the  main  the  survey  over  the  desert  made  by  the  gov- 
ernment in  1853.  Since  then  most  of  the  travel  has  been  in  com- 
fortable, nay,  luxurious  cars,  save  to  the  miner  and  prospector  who 
venture  still  into  the  secret  places,  the  inner  heart  of  the  desert. 
While  tardy  county  and  state  officials  are  at  length  bestirring  them- 
selves to  do  a  duty  that  should  have  been  done  long  ago,  in  the 
digging  of  wells  and  erection  of  sign-posts,  there  is  still  enough  of 
danger  to  give  the  spice  of  hardship  and  adventure  to  those  who 
seek  it.  The  winds  blow  over  the  faint  and  uncertain  trails,  the 
moving  sands  either  leave  or  cover  them,  the  rains  and  cloud-bursts 
wash  them  away,  and  the  fierce  sun  of  midsummer  beats  pitilessly 
down  upon  them  to-day  as  relentlessly  and  exhaustingly  as  when 
the  first  explorer  set  his  foot  in  this  wonderful  region. 


View  of  the  desert  from  the  "Hidden  Lake"  trail 
on  San  Jacinto  Mountains 


116 


The  Colorado  River  Ferry 


117 


CHAPTER  VIII 


The   Colorado   River   Ferry 


^NTIL  after  the  discovery  of  gold  the  first  ferry 
established  on  the  Colorado  River  was  run  by 
Indians.     A  General  Anderson  of  Tennessee  is 


1 2.  said  to  have  gone  from  Tucson  to  California,  and 
on  reaching  the  Colorado  River  built  a  boat  for 
the  purpose  of  crossing  his  company.  He  then 
presented  the  boat  to  the  Yumas  and  gave  them 
a  certificate  to  that  effect,  on  condition  that  they  would  cross 
all  Americans  at  one  dollar  for  a  horse,  one  dollar  for  a  man, 
and  one  dollar  for  the  cargo  (a  pack),  and  that  upon  a  viola- 
tion of  this  contract  by  any  higher  charges  than  these  the  boat 
should  be  forfeited.  The  Yumas  for  a  while  plied  this  ferry  at 
what  was  called  the  lower  crossing,  some  four  or  five  miles 
below  Yuma,  reaching  the  California  bank  near  where  Hanlon's 
ranch  now  is,  or  the  upper  end  of  the  Algodones  ranch.  This 
was  in  the  latter  part  of  1849  and  early  in  1850.  The  Indians 
seem  to  have  kept  their  part  of  the  contract  faithfully.  In  the 
records  of  the  time  there  are  few  complaints  of  ill  treatment  by 
the  Indians  and  none,  that  I  can  find,  about  the  ferry. 

It  was  natural,  however,  that  some  thrifty  white  man  should 
look  upon  this  ferry  with  envious  eyes  when  the  Sonoranian  im- 
migration to  the  California  gold-fields  began.  And  it  was  left 
to  Dr.  A.  L.  Lincoln,  a  relative  of  the  martyred  President,  Abra- 
ham Lincoln,  to  be  that  white  man.  He  had  come  to  California 
in  1849,  and  early  in  January,  1850,  returned  to  the  Colorado 
River.  The  possibilities  of  a  ferry  run  by  a  white  man  appealed 
to  him,  but,  not  wishing  to  seem  to  interfere  with  the  Yumas,  he 
established  his  ferry  at  the  junction  of  the  Gila  and  the  Colorado. 
This  was  a  wise  move,  for  the  greater  part  of  the  immigrants  came 
down  the  Gila  and  thus  reached  the  Colorado  first  at  this  point. 


118 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


The  Sonoranian  migration  to  the  gold-mines  was  then  at  its 
height,  and  the  ferry  proved  to  be  a  most  profitable  undertaking. 
On  the  twelfth  of  February  a  man  named  Glanton,  with  a  party, 
mainly  of  Texans  and  Missourians,  came  to  the  ferry,  and  although 
Lincoln  then  had  six  men  in  his  employ,  such  was  the  work  re- 
quired that  he  gladly  engaged  nine  of  these  men  to 
remain  and  assist.  Glanton  was  one  of  the  nine.  He 
was  a  natural  leader,  though  of  a  rude,  brutal,  and 
domineering  character,  and  Lincoln  would  gladly  have 
got  rid  of  him  if  he  could.  So  far  the  Yuma  Indians 
had  shown  nothing  but  kindness  to  Lincoln  and 
his  men,  and  they  had  been  well  treated  in  re- 
turn, but  when  Glanton  made  himself  the  man- 
ager of  the  ferry,  trouble  at  once  began. 
Not  only  did  he  want  the  ferryage  of  the 


Canyon  on  the         __ 
Colorado  River  above  Yuma 


American  travel  that  came  by  the  Gila,  and  thus  cut  off  that 
source  of  income  to  the  Indians,  but  when  he  learned  that 
many  Mexicans  had  crossed  and  were  crossing  by  the  Indian 
ferry  he  became  furiously  angry.  The  Indians  then  claim  that 
he  sent  his  men  down  the  river  where  they  destroyed  the  In- 
dians' boat,  captured  an  American  whom  they  found  helping  the 
Indians,  with  all  his  money,  and  that  when  Glanton  saw  and 
talked  with  the  American  he  shot  him  and  threw  his  body  into 
the  river.     The   chief  of  the  Yumas  said   he  then  went  to  see 


The  Colorado  River  Ferry  119 

Glanton  and  made  an  offer  that  Glanton  should  cross  all  the 
men  and  baggage,  while  the  Indians  should  cross  the  animals  of 
the  emigrants,  and  thus  they  would  get  along  quietly.  With  a 
spirit  that  is  not  unusual  even  in  this  our  day,  Glanton  repu- 
diated such  an  offer,  kicked  the  chief  out  of  the  house,  and  beat 
him  over  the  head  with  his  stick. 

The  chief  then  called  a  council  of  his  people  and  it  was  de- 
termined to  kill  Glanton  and  all  the  Americans  at  the  ferry.  From 
the  deposition  of  Jeremiah  Hill,  sworn  to  in  Los  Angeles,  May 
23,  1850,  these  facts  are  gathered.  It  was  found  that  Glanton 
had  gone  to  San  Diego.  On  his  return,  the  chief  who  had  been 
insulted  went  to  the  ferry  and  found  Glanton  and  his  men  drinking. 
They  gave  him  something  to  eat  and  also  some  drink.  After 
dinner,  "five  of  the  Americans  laid  down  to  sleep  in  a  hut,  leaving 
him  sitting  there;  others  were  ferrying,  and  were  on  the  opposite 
side;  three  had  gone  up  on  this  side  for  some  purpose.  The  chief 
said  he  watched  till  he  thought  the  five  were  asleep,  when  he  went 
out  to  his  people  on  this  side,  who  were  all  hid  in  the  bushes  just 
below  the  houses;  a  portion  of  them  he  sent  up  after  the  three 
Americans  who  were  cutting  poles,  instructing  his  men  to  get 
possession  of  their  arms.  He  had  previously  posted  five  hundred 
Indians  on  the  other  side,  instructed  to  mix  among  the  Americans 
and  Mexicans,  and  get  into  the  boat  without  suspicion.  He  him- 
self then  went  up  on  the  little  mound  perhaps  as  high  as  his  head, 
but  commanding  a  view  of  all  his  Indians,  and  the  whole  scene; 
from  this  mound  he  was  to  give  the  signal.  There  he  was  to 
beckon  to  those  hid  in  the  bushes  to  come  near  the  American  tents, 
which  they  were  immediately  to  enter  and  give  a  yell  as  they  killed 
the  Americans,  whereupon  he  was  to  give  the  sign  with  a  pole 
having  a  scarf  on  it  to  the  Indians  on  the  other  side  as  well  as  those 
who  were  watching  the  three  from  above.  He  gave  the  signal, 
when  those  in  the  boat  and  at  the  houses  were  all  killed.  The 
Indians  who  had  been  sent  after  the  three  Americans  ran,  but 
these  three  succeeded  in  getting  into  a  skiff  and  escaped  by  going 
down  the  river.  His  men  pursued  on  the  shore,  on  both  sides, 
but  several  were  killed  by  the  Americans,  and  many  wounded. 
He  showed  us  two  of  the  wounded,  and  when  asked  if 'as  many  as 
ten'  of  the  tribe  were  killed  he  said,  'More.'     He  said  one  of  the 


120 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


Americans  would  row  while  the  others  fired,  and  his  people  hesi- 
tated to  pursue  further.  When  the  chief  went  up  to  see  Glanton, 
as  above  stated,  about  the  ferry,  Glanton  said  that  he  would  kill 
one  Indian  for  every  Mexican  they  should  cross.  He  showed  us 
by  signs  the  amount  of  money  in  bags  which  he  took  from  the 
Americans'  camp.  It  seemed  from  his  description  to  be  about 
three  bags  of  silver,  each  about  three  feet  high,  and  about  two  feet 
around,  which  must  have  contained  at  least  $80,000,  besides  a  bag 
of  gold,  about  a  foot  high  and  a  foot  round.  This  he  said  he 
divided  amongst  his  people,  then  burnt  the  houses  over  the  bodies 
of  the  dead.  The  six  who  were  killed  in  the  boat  were  thrown  into 
the  river  as  fast  as  they  were  killed,  all  killed  with  clubs.  The  five 
on  shore  were  killed  with  clubs  except  Glanton,  who 
was  killed  with  a  hatchet,  which  ^ 

the  chief  showed  to  us  ;  ^*t$h. 

their  clothes  r*/~^J^.ffij^Z~" 


were 


_•».*"  — ,^TT  -<-7-»r  ~-»V  C*  ■■  ftr^z 


-XiTJT 


The 
Colorado  River  near  Picacho 


burnt,  and  perhaps  their  flesh  somewhat  burnt  by  the  burning  of 
the  little  shed  of  brush  in  which  they  had  been  killed;  their 
bodies  were  then  thrown  into  the  river.  After  giving  this  account 
of  the  transaction,  the  chief  said  that,  upon  the  death  of  these 
Americans,  another  council  was  held  as  to  whether  they  should 
kill  all  Americans  who  should  come  along,  at  which  it  was  resolved 
by  every  Indian  that  they  would.  He  said  that  in  two  days  they 
could  muster  4,000  warriors;  he  said  their  arms  were  principally 
bows  and  arrows  and  clubs;  and  that  they  had  a  few  guns,  including 
all  the  arms  they  got  from  Glanton's  party,  but  that  they  intended 
to  collect  all  they  could  from  every  source." 

The  three  Americans  escaped  and  reached  San  Diego  in  safety. 
As  they  passed  New  River  they  saw  two  Yuma  Indians  who  in- 


The  Colorado  River  Ferry 


121 


formed  them  they  were  on  the  lookout  for  any  Americans  who 
might  come  from  San  Diego  to  light  them.  They  were  hostile 
to  the  whites  and  wanted  them  to  know  it. 

At  this  time  it  was  supposed  that  fully  seventy-five  to  one  hun- 
dred American  men,  women,  and  children  were  on  the  way  to  the 
Colorado,  coming  down  the  Gila  River.  This  and  the  fact  of  the 
massacre  led  Governor  Burnett  to  order  the  sheriff  of  Los  Angeles 
to  enroll  forty  men,  and  the  sheriff  of  San  Diego  twenty,  to  be 
placed  under  the  command  of  General  Bean  of  the  state  militia  and 
to  proceed  at  once,  punish  the  murderous  Yumas  and  reduce  them 
to  a  proper  state  of  mind  toward  traveling  Americans.     General 

Bean  placed  the  command  in  the 


hands  of  General  Joseph  C. 


Railway  bridge         ^\~V^ 
and  steamer 
at  Yuma 


Morehead,  who  delaying  his  preparations,  found  the  people  of  Los 
Angeles  unwilling  to  furnish  supplies  for  his  scrip,  alleging  that  the 
alarm  had  subsided.  The  gallant  general  then  seized  by  force 
what  was  required,  paying  by  drafts  on  the  state  treasury  at  an 
extravagant  price,  and  set  out  with  forty  men  and  supplies  for  a 
hundred  over  the  desert.  That  was  a  wild  and  boisterous  march. 
Meeting  emigrants  on  the  way  the  force  was  increased  to  one  hun- 
dred twenty-five,  and  these  rough  and  turbulent  spirits,  with  full 
rations,  more  liquid  than  solid,  marched  to  the  reduction  of  the 
Yumas.  The  Indians  fled  up  the  river  at  their  approach,  but  they 
were  not  pursued.  Morehead  and  his  men  settled  down  to  a  fierce 
attack  on  their  rations  and  kept  it  up  until  the  governor  ordered  an 
immediate  disbandment.     The  order  was  disobeyed  on  the  ground 


122  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

that  the  traveling  bands  of  Americans  still  needed  protection,  but 
when  it  was  repeated  in  most  peremptory  fashion  the  "force" 
retired.  This  adventure  did  not  one  particle  of  good  and  cost  the 
state  $120,000,  $76,588  of  which  was  for  the  goods  purchased  by 
Morehead  and  the  balance  for  the  forceful  levies  he  had  made. 

This  trouble  led  to  the  establishment,  the  following  November, 
of  Fort  Yuma,  and  Major  Heintzelman,  who  had  been  stationed 
at  San  Diego,  was  made  commanding  officer.  Either  by  his 
direction  or  under  his  protection  a  party  left  San  Diego  in  May, 
1850,  fully  equipped  to  build  and  operate  ferry-boats  at  the  crossing 
where  Lincoln  and  Glanton  had  lost  their  lives.  This  ferry  was 
successfully  operated  for  a  while  and  then  it  came  to  the  hands 
of  Diego  Yaeger,  who,  for  many  years,  continued  to  operate 
it.  Yaeger  was  a  German  by  birth  and  also  a  born  frontiersman, 
with  all  the  thriftiness  of  his  race.  He  made  a  good  thing  out  of 
the  ferry.  The  military  had  to  cross  and  recross,  and  they  also 
had  to  purchase  large  supplies  of  beef,  beans,  vegetables,  and 
animal  forage.  And  need  it  be  added,  that  the  military  at  this 
desert  post  were  glad  to  have  an  obliging  capitalist  close  at  hand 
who  could  and  would,  for  a  consideration,  "help  them  out"  when 
funds  were  short, "  until  next  pay-day"  r  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the 
ferry  of  the  Colorado,  with  its  perquisites,  made  a  fortune  for  the 
German  frontiersman. 

To-day  the  ferry  is  still  there,  but  with  the  opening  of  the  South- 
ern Pacific  railway  in  the  early  '8o's  it  has  ceased  to  be  of  a  highly 
remunerative  character. 


Storms,  Mirages,  and  Desert  Illusions  123 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Storms,  Mirages,  Desert  Illusions,  and  Temperatures 

HE  Colorado  Desert  is  no  exception  to  other 
deserts  in  its  liability  to  storms.  The  peculiar 
topography  of  the  desert  and  its  surrounding 
country  indicates  its  possibilities  in  this  direction. 
About  midway  between  the  Colorado  Desert 
and  the  Pacific  Ocean  stands  the  gigantic 
mountain  barrier  of  the  San  Bernardino  and 
San  Jacinto  ranges,  with   an  elevation  of  from  9,000   to    11,000 


A  settler's  home  on  the  desert 


feet.  At  the  point  of  junction  between  the  two  ranges, 
with  an  elevation  of  but  2, 808  feet,  is  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass. 
On  the  west  side  of  the  pass  the  fertile  valley  of  San  Bernardino 
and  Santa  Ana  slopes  down  to  the  sea,  and  on  the  east  side  the 
rugged  boulder-strewn  slope  leads  to  the  hot,  dry,  sandy  bowl, 
287  feet  below  sea-level,  of  the  Colorado  Desert.  Temporarily 
portions  of  this  bowl  are  filled  with  water,  the  Salton  Sea, 
but  this  is  a  condition  of  less  than  a  year's  continuance,  and 


124  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

ere  another  year  is  gone  may  again  have  reverted  to  its  normal 
condition  of  dryness.  Between  the  head  of  the  pass  and  down 
as  far  as  Mecca  the  verdure  has  grown  wonderfully  in  the  past 
four  years,  owing  to  the  discovery  of  artesian  water,  and  south 
of  the  Salton  Sea  the  Imperial  Valley  has  also  produced  a  large 
amount  of  crops  as  the  result  of  irrigation.  Yet  it  is  neverthe- 
less true  that  a  tremendous  area  both  of  flat  sand-plain  and 
rocky  mountain  slope  and  the  trench-like  valleys  between  are 
practically  verdureless  and  therefore  act  as  vast  reflectors  of  the 
heat  of  the  sun.  During  the  daytime,  when  the  sun  shines 
directly  upon  these  radiating  surfaces,  the  heated  air  arises  in 
great  volume.  Whither  shall  it, go  ?  To  the  east  similar  columns 
of  hot  air  are  ascending  from  the  Arizona  deserts,  and  north- 
ward from  the  Mohave,  while  to  the  south  there  is  only  the 
comparatively  narrow  passageway  of  the  Gulf  of  California. 
Air  must  conform  to  natural  law  the  same  as  water,  and  while  it 
is  capable  of  compression  (as  is  water),  it  will  seek  an  outlet 
before  yielding  to  much  pressure.  This  outlet  is  found  over 
the  western  range  (the  San  Jacinto)  where,  passing  over  to  the 
Pacific  Ocean,  it  is  quickly  cooled  and  ready  for  its  return  passage. 
For,  on  cooling,  it  descends,  and,  feeling  the  suction  caused  by 
the  ascension  of  air  on  the  desert,  it  rushes  in  to  fill  up  the  va- 
cant spaces.  Reaching  the  range  of  mountains  it  ascends  again 
here  to  come  in  contact  with  the  ascending  hot  column  from  the 
desert.  The  suction,  therefore,  is  tremendous  at  such  places  of 
low  level  where  there  is  a  pass  over  or  through  which  the  cooled 
air  may  flow.  The  San  Gorgonio  Pass  is  the  largest  and  most 
accessible  of  these  passes,  and  through  it  the  air  flows  with 
great  force.  The  high  walls  of  the  pass  may  be  regarded  as  the 
pump,  while  the  desert  acts  as  the  suction  valve,  compressing 
and  drawing  the  air  toward  it  at  the  same  time.  The  result  is 
the  wind  blast  before  referred  to  that  bends  the  trees  over  toward 
the  southeast  and  that  may  be  relied  upon  most  of  the  days  of 
the  summer  months. 

Two  interesting  series  of  phenomena  owe  their  existence  to 
this  blast.  It  is  not  an  ordinary  shifting  breeze,  but  a  constant 
and  powerful  current  sweeping  through  the  pass  with  such 
violence  that  myriads  of  fine  grains  of  sand  are  lifted  from  the 


Storms,  Mirages,  and  Desert  Illusions  U5 

dry  channels  of  the  streams  and  the  ever-shifting  masses  of 
mountain  detritus  and  are  carried  along,  down  the  slope,  until 
they  find  a  resting-place  on  the  desert.  Just  above  and  below 
Palm  Springs  station  one  may  see  the  effects  produced  by  this 
lifting  up  of  the  sand  by  the  wind.  Wherever  there  is  a  tree, 
or  a  bush,  or  a  tiny  plant  in  the  path  of  the  blast  the  sand 
particles  on  the  upper  side  are  lifted  up  and  carried  away  so 
that  often  the  whole  root  oi  the  plant  is  exposed.  The  space 
between  plants  is  swept  as  clean  and  smooth  as  if  one  had  gone 
over  it  with  a  sweeping  machine  that  could  adapt  itself  to  the 
irregularities  of  the  heavier  rocks  and  pebbles  and  pick  up  only 
the  sand.  On  the  lower  side  the  particles  seem  to  cling  and 
arrange  themselves  in  a  peculiar  shape,  long  and  tapering  to  a 
point,  the  base  resting  at  the   stem   and  with  its  size  determined 

by  the  size  of 
the    plant. 


Moving  sand-hills  near  Indian  Well 

Many  large  rocks  have  their  recumbent,  tapered,  half  obelisk 
or  cone  of  sand  made  in  like  fashion.  Professor  Blake  says 
that  "the  movements  of  sand  in  the  air  are  precisely  similar 
to  those  that  take  place  when  it  is  immersed  in  the  more  dense 
fluid,  water.  The  progress  of  the  grains  along  the  surface  of  the 
plain,  and  their  final  rest  at  the  edge  of  the  bank,  is  precisely 
similar  to  the  transportation  of  sand  by  a  stream,  and  its  dep- 
osition, in  the  form  of  a  bank,  whenever  the  current  enters 
deep  water.  In  water  little  eddies  and  back  currents  are  pro- 
duced by  a  projecting  rock,  or  root,  acting  as  a  barrier  to  the 
current,  and  drift-sand  accumulates  on  the  lower  side  of  such 
obstacles.  So,  in  air,  wherever  a  slight  obstacle,  such  as  a  bush 
or  boulder,  stands  on  the  plain,  exposed  to  the  wind,  the  driving 
sand  accumulates  on  the  lee  side." 

Another  phenomenon   owing   its   existence   to   the    sand    blast 


126  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

is  found  in  the  smooth,  even  glassy  polish  attained  by  the  tele- 
graph-poles. Many  of  the  ties  and  bridge  timbers  look  "as  if 
some  industrious  Dutch  housewife  had  washed  and  scrubbed 
them  with  soap  and  water,  until  they  resemble  in  their  whiteness 
the  boards  of  her  own  kitchen  floor.  Glass  bottles,  left  for  a  short 
time  on  the  ground,  lose  their  original  appearance,  and  are  ground 
inside  and  out."  The  most  striking  effects,  however,  are  seen  on 
many  of  the  rocks  below  the  pass  and  elsewhere,  which  are  polished 
and  smoothed  or  cut  and  bored  into  remarkable  shapes.  The  lime- 
stones subject  to  this  sand  attrition  have  a  peculiar,  rounded  and 
smooth  surface,  which  resembles  that  of  partly  dissolved  crystals, 
or  deliquescent  specimens  of  rock  salt. 

The  homogenous  granites  have  long  grooves  cut  into  their 
surfaces,  deep  enough  to  receive  a  lead-pencil,  and  the  granites 
of    unequal    hardness    present    most    interesting    results.     The 


A  wind-storm  in  the  desert 


abrasion  being  most  rapid  upon  the  softer  feldspar,  the  masses 
of  quartz,  tourmaline,  and  garnets  stand  out  in  relief,  or,  where 
the  harder  rock  faces  the  wind  with  the  feldspar  behind,  it  is  worn 
away  to  a  point,  similar  to  the  sand  behind  the  bushes. 

Vertical  surfaces  of  rock  exposed  to  this  sand  blast  are  cut  in 
curious  fashion.  The  harder  masses  act  as  a  protection  for  the 
softer  feldspar,  beneath  which  it  is  chiseled  and  cut  into  tiny 
columns,  upon  which  rest,  as  caps,  the  quartz.  Where  the  feld- 
spar is  charged  with  small  garnets,  and  is  directly  in  front  of  the 
wind,  the  garnets  are  left  standing  in  relief,  mounted  on  the  ends 
of  long  pedicles  of  feldspar,  —  jeweled  fingers,  pointing  in  the 
direction  of  the  wind. 

Sand-storms  on  the  desert!  What  a  feeling  of  terror  comes  over 
us  when  we  read  or  even  think  of  a  storm  of  this  character  over- 
taking the   desert  traveler!     There  are   sand-storms   and  sand- 


Storms,  Mirages,  and  Desert  Illusions  127 

storms,  and  I  have  experienced  several  kinds.  It  is  no  uncom- 
mon thing  to  see  the  sand  carried  along  into  the  atmosphere  so 
that  the  sky  is  largely  obscured,  but  that  need  not  be  attended 
with  more  than  trifling  discomfort.  But  when  the  very  atmos- 
phere itself  seems  made  of  sand,  so  that  every  breath  you 
breathe  fills  mouth,  nostrils,  bronchial  tubes,  and  lungs  with  the 
tiny  yet  distressing  particles,  and  when,  in  addition,  the  sun's 
fiercest  rays  are  condensed  by  this  sandy  atmosphere  as  through 
a  lens  upon  the  hapless  traveler  beneath,  so  that  he  is  almost 
suffocated  by  the  heat,  which  is  made  more  intense  by  the 
scorching  character  of  the  wild  wind  itself,  then  one  knows  to 
the  full  the  real  terror  of  the  desert,  the  demon  in  all  his  fury,  the 
archfiend  that  is  worse  than  Death.  It  is  generally  easy  to  tell 
when  the  storm  is  coming.  To  a  heavy  sultriness  of  atmosphere 
is  added  a  feeling  of  tenseness  as  if  everything  were  gathering 
itself  together  ready  to  make  a  spring  upon  you.  The  very 
intensity  of  the  feeling  unnerves  you  and  deprives  you  of  the 
power  to  resist  the  coming  onslaught.  The  horses,  burros,  and 
mules  are  restless  and  uneasy.  They  whinny  and  whine  and 
whimper  in  their  semi-articulate  way  trying  to  voice  their  sense 
of  the  distress  in  store  for  them.  The  palms  are  as  silent  and  still 
as  if  they  held  their  breath.  Everything  is  still  and  motionless. 
Even  the  coyote  knows  enough  to  seek  and  keep  shelter  when  the 
desert  is  thus  tightening  its  muscles  for  the  conflict. 

Then,  suddenly,  the  wind  comes.  In  a  moment  the  palms 
wave  their  tufted  heads  like  green  billows  in  an  angry  sea,  and 
their  voices  fill  the  earth  as  the  roar  of  the  waves  fills  the  sea.  In 
the  distance  the  sand-waves  come,  reaching  from  the  face  of  the 
desert  to  the  very  zenith.  Rolling  and  tossing,  reaching  out 
waving  arms  with  fiercely  clutching  fingers  as  a  mad  demon  of 
frightful  size  and  power  bent  on  destruction,  they  dash  along. 
The  sky  is  filled  with  bloody  gold,  and  the  sun  has  red  instead  of 
gold  in  its  blood.  As  soon  as  the  storm  reaches  us  we  are  imme- 
diately enveloped  as  in  a  hot  mist  of  dry  sandy  air.  No  arrange- 
ment of  words  can  equal  the  concentration  of  misery  and  wretch- 
edness one  feels  at  such  a  moment.  At  first  one  is  utterly  blinded, 
staggered,  stunned.  Gasping  for  breath,  whirled  about,  buffeted, 
even  thrown  down,  he  knows  not  what  has  happened,  what  is 


128         The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

happening,  what  is  going  to  happen.  As  soon  as  eyesight  is 
gained  the  animals  are  found  huddled  together,  their  tails  turned 
to  the  fury,  which  now  roars  as  an  intermittent  furnace.  It  is  as 
if  the  demon  were  trying  to  scare  and  stifle  you  at  the  same  time. 
Parched,  one  takes  a  sip  from  the  canteen,  and  hearing  the  low 
moaning  of  the  animals,  he  feels  their  wretchedness.  They,  too, 
are  suffering  for  water.  But  to  give  it  in  a  bucket  is  impossible, 
and  experience  has  taught  me  not  to  try  to  do  so.  I  pour  it  into 
a  bottle  and  then,  throwing  the  animal's  head  back,  pour  the 
warm  fluid  down  its  throat.  It  is  neither  satisfying  nor  refresh- 
ing, yet  it  seems  to  meet  some  demand.  Hour  after  hour  the  heat 
pours  down,  drying  every  particle  of  moisture  out  of  you  it  can 
capture.     You  feel  you  are  drying  up,  and  yet  the  water  you 


Part  of  the  great  sand-hills 


drink  gives  you  no  relief.  The  sand  fills  everything,  —  eyes,  ears, 
nostrils,  mouth,  clothes,  pockets,  are  full  of  the  tiny,  hot  particles. 
To  breathe  is  a  distress,  to  eat  impossible.  The  animals  lie  down 
and  writhe  and  groan  in  their  helpless  distress.  In  pity  for  them 
I  have  wrapped  up  their  heads  in  canvas,  and  they  seemed  to  com- 
prehend I  was  doing  it  for  their  relief. 

For  such  a  storm  to  last  an  hour  is  a  fierce  distress  that  seizes 
a  strong  man  with  such  a  grip  that  though  he  is  a  fighter  through 
and  through,  he  almost  cries  out  for  relief.  To  suffer  it  for  two 
or  three  days  is  a  maddening  torture.  Three  times  I  have  ex- 
perienced this  kind  of  a  storm. 

Yet  summer  storms  of  this  nature  are  far  rarer  than  the  fierce 
storms  of  winter.     Then  the  sultry  heat  gives  place  to  piercing 


Storms,  Mirages,  and  Desert  Illusions         129 

cold  that  cuts  through  and  through  you  as  a  stabbing  dagger. 
It  is  as  if  all  the  heat  of  summer  had  suddenly  been  converted  by 
magic  into  biting  cold,  and  the  hot  blasts  of  the  scorching  sirocco 
exchanged  for  a  frozen  wind  from  the  ice-fields  of  the  Arctic. 

The  one  is  just  as  dangerous  as  the  other;  the  unwary  traveler 
on  the  desert  is  liable  to  perish  in  either.  Their  rarity  is  their 
chiefest  comfort,  and  their  entire  absence  the  only  blessing 
they  can  confer.  Familiarity  with  them  does  not  breed  contempt, 
nor  do  they  improve  on  acquaintance.  One  dare  not  speak  dis- 
respectfully of  them,  so  even  now  I  have  stood  up  and  turned 
around,  making  the  needful  signs,  —  as  many  people  do  when 
speaking  of  the  devil,  —  that  when  I  next  go  on  the  desert  I  may 
not  be  punished  for  my  temerity  and  disrespect. 

Of  one  phase  of  a  desert  storm  I  have  not  yet  spoken;  that  is 
its  fury  where  the  hand  of  man  has  made  an  oasis.  One  has  often 
watched  the  fierce  waves  of  a  storm-tossed  sea  leap  with  wicked 
anger  upon  the  land.  So  the  winds  of  the  desert  leap  upon  the 
trees  and  verdure  and  houses  that  the  oasis  has  planted  upon  the 
desert's  bosom.  It  is  the  jealous  rage  of  an  exacting  and  venge- 
ful lover.  It  comes  like  a  foaming  tide  that  strikes  and  then 
surrounds,  falling  back  to  gain  new  strength  to  strike  again  with 
renewed  power,  roaring  and  eddying,  dashing  and  clamoring, 
taking  the  tall  trees  as  in  giant  hands  and  bending  them  over 
toward  the  ground.  It  slams  the  doors,  rattles  the  casements, 
and  sometimes  carries  away  the  roofs  of  the  houses  of  the  proud, 
strutting  creatures  called  men,  who  build  these  places  as  their 
shelters.  When  they  enter  them,  and  close  the  door  upon  the 
battling  storm  and  then  gaze  upon  its  fury  through  the  windows, 
wearing  a  smile  that  seems  to  sneer  at  its  impotence  and  anger, 
how  can  the  Desert  Demon  contain  itself?  It  must  destroy  this 
pygmy,  puny  creature.  It  must  drive  him  forth  from  the  home  of 
its  beloved,  where,  hitherto,  it  has  reigned  supreme.  And  with 
renewed  vigor  and  force,  with  unquenchable  anger  it  lashes  itself 
into  new  fury  and  continues  the  attack. 

Inside  the  house  the  wind  and  sand  penetrate,  the  latter  cover- 
ing everything  with  its  pale  gray  pall,  the  former  shaking  and 
fluttering  every  piece  of  hanging  drapery,  lifting  up  the  rugs 
and  carpets  as  if  some  uneasy  spirit  were  confined  in  them  that 

Vol.  I.-9 


130 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


wished  to  escape  and  join  the  army  of  tossing,  torn  and  mis- 
shaped things  outside  that  were  being  driven  headlong  by  the 
fury  of  the  storm. 

Can  one  be  in  or  gaze  upon  such  a  storm  and  not  feel  all  the 
peace  he  has  gained  on  the  desert  disappear?  Most  certainly! 
To  me  the  storm  is  clarifying,  purifying.  I  have  no  resentment 
against  the  storm  that  even  beats  me  down  and  compels  delay 
and  produces  great  discomfort,  weariness,  distress.  David  knew 
what  the  heart  soon  learns,  viz.,  that  even  the  "stormy  wind 
fulfils  His  word."  God  is  as  surely  in  the  fire  and  whirlwind, 
in  the  storm  and  the  tempest,  as  in  anything,  and  he  only  can 
find  constant,  secure  peace  who  knows  that  there  is  no  storm 
outside  of  God. 

The  faint  roads  and  trails  on  the  sandy 
portions  of  the  desert  are 


A  desert 

graveyard 


often  entirely  obliterated  by  the  sand-storms.  Either  the  sand 
is  bodily  transferred  by  the  wind,  thus  leaving  not  the  slight- 
est trace,  or  the  road  is  covered  by  the  sifting  sand  and 
thus  disappears.  The  results  to  the  traveler,  unless  he  be  very 
familiar  with  the  desert,  are  equally  disastrous.  It  is  bad 
enough  to  be  on  the  desert  in  stormy  times  with  well-defined 
roads  and  trails,  but  to  have  them  obliterated  always  means 
distress,  often  disaster,  and  sometimes  death. 

Fortunately  sand-storms  are  not  too  prevalent.  March,  as 
elsewhere,  is  the  month  of  bluster  and  wind,  and  then  the  blasts 
from  the  north  and  west  coming  over  the  snow-clad  summits 
of  San  Jacinto  and  San  Gorgonio  are  cold  and  piercing.  I 
have  often  slept  out  of  doors  in  late  March  and  the  winds  have 
been  both  piercing  and  cold  at  that  time. 

The  heat  waves  on  the  desert  produce  most  astonishing  optical 
illusions.     I  have  a  lady  friend  who  has  taken  up  a  desert  claim. 


Storms,  Mirages,  and  Desert  Illusions  131 

She  was  once  riding  along  in  the  heat  of  a  summer's  day,  the 
whole  face  of  the  desert  palpitating  and  vibrating  with  the  heat 
waves,  when,  suddenly,  in  the  distance,  her  eyes  fell  upon  a 
moving  object  that  was  so  large  and  singular  that  it  instantly 
filled  her  with  inconceivable  terror  and  dread.  Here,  visible  to 
her  own  eyes,  while  she  was  as  calm  and  sane  and  in  full  pos- 
session of  all  her  faculties  as  she  ever  was,  a  monster  sea-serpent 
was  approaching  her.  It  seemed  to  be  fully  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
long,  and  it  came  toward  her,  humping  itself  in  sections  exactly 
as  an  inchworm  or  caterpillar  humps  itself  in  traveling.  It  was 
no  illusion!  It  was  a  serious  fact.  The  thing  was  coming, 
silently,  stealthily,  but  really,  positively,  actually.  For  a  few 
moments  the  poor  woman  was  absolutely  petrified  with  such  a 
fright  as  she  had  never  felt  in  her  life.  What  could  she  do  ? 
Fly  ?  That  was  useless,  for  the  creature  was  approaching  with 
a  speed  far  greater  than  her  old  and  weary  horse  was  capa- 
ble of.  In  her  horror  she  sat  still,  incapable  of  decision  or  ac- 
tion until  the  object  itself  relieved  her  of  all  fear.  It  was  a 
freight  train  of  very  great  length,  coming  on  the  track  along- 
side of  which  she  was  driving,  and  the  heat  waves  vibrating 
over  and  upon  it  had  produced  the  optical  illusion.  The  air 
vibrations  also  had  the  further  effect  of  magnifying  the  cars  so 
that  altogether  it  made  a  truly  terrifying  spectacle. 

I  have  seen  the  same  phenomenon  many  times.  It  is  start- 
ling and  horrifying  even  when  one  is  used  to  it,  so  much  so 
that  one  laughs  at  his  own  dread  as  soon  as  the  train  has  time  to 
correct  the  impression  of  fear  the  startling  object  immediately 
creates. 

The  track-walkers  tell  me  that  when  they  first  saw  the  tracks 
humping  up  and  down  in  this  same  fashion  they  were  sure  an 
earthquake  was  approaching  and  stood  breathless,  waiting  for 
the  awful  and  destructive  shocks,  which,  however,  never  came. 

I  remember  on  one  occasion  going  with  the  section-men  on 
their  "pump  car"  to  Salton.  As  we  approached  the  station  the 
salt-works  were  "without  form  and  void."  It  is  impossible  to 
put  into  words  the  peculiar  appearance  they  presented.  One 
could  see  some  object  in  the  landscape,  but  it  was  not  stable, 
and  it  was  of  no  recognizible  shape.     It  was  a  nonesuch.     It  was 


132  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

in  constant  movement  as  if  under  the  influence  of  an  earthquake 
that  shook  with  rhythmic  movement,  up  and  down,  across  and 
lengthwise,  simultaneously.  It  was  the  most  singular  looking 
object  I  think  I  ever  beheld  in  my  life,  and  the  movements  were 
weird  and  strange  beyond  any  description.  I  thought  I  knew 
everything  in  the  locality,  but  this  certainly  was  novel  and 
strange.  As  soon  as  I  could  I  went  to  investigate  and  to  my 
utter  amazement,  as  soon  as  I  got  near  enough  to  dispel  the 
effect  of  the  heat  waves,  I  found  it  was  nothing  but  the  build- 
ings of  the  salt-works.  The  thermometer  registered  1150 
Fahrenheit  in  the  shade. 

The  most  famous  as  it  is  perhaps  the  best  known  and  least 
understood  of  all  desert  illusions  is  the  mirage.     The  poet  Moore 


Mirage.   Inverted 

mountains  in  the  sky 


could  think  of  no  more  miserable  doom  for  the  traitor  than  to 
invoke  the  judgment  of  Heaven  upon  him  in  the  mirage: 

"May  he,  at  last,  with  lips  of  flame, 
On  the  parched  desert  thirsting  die, 
While  lakes  that  shone  in  mockery  nigh 
Are  fading  off,  untouched,  untasted." 

A  thousand  and  one  different  mirages  have  been  described, 
but,  after  twenty-five  years  of  experience  on  several  desert  areas, 
I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  while  the  mirage  is  most 
wonderful,  the  general  descriptions  are  often  the  work  of  a  vivid 
imagination  which  heightens  and  enlarges  upon  that  which  it  sees. 

Clarence  King,  however,  describes  the  Colorado  Desert  mirage 
with  truth:  "In  the  indistinct  glare  of  the  southern  horizon,  it 
needed  but  slight  aid  from  the  imagination  to  see  lifting  and 


Storms,  Mirages,  and  Desert  Illusions  133 

tumbling  of  billows,  as  if  the  old  tide  were  coming;  but  they 
were  only  shudderings  of  heat.  As  we  sat  there  surveying  this 
unusual  scene,  the  white  expanse  became  suddenly  transformed 
into  a  placid  blue  sea,  along  whose  rippling  shores  were  the  white 
blocks  of  roofs,  groups  of  spire-crowned  villages,  and  cool  stretches 
of  green  grove.  A  soft  vapory  atmosphere  hung  over  this  sea; 
shadows,  purple  and  blue,  floated  slowly  across  it,  producing  the 
most  enchanting  effect  of  light  and  color.  The  dreamy  richness 
of  the  tropics,  the  serene  sapphire  sky  of  the  desert,  and  the 
cool,  purple  distance  of  mountains  were  grouped  as  by  miracle. 
It  was  as  if  Nature  were  about  to  repay  us  an  hundred-fold  for 
the  lie  she  had  given  the  topographers  and  their  maps. 

"In  a  moment  the  illusion  vanished.  It  was  gone,  leaving  the 
white  desert  unrelieved  by  a  shadow;  a  blaze  of  white  light 
falling  full  on  the  plain;  the  sun-struck  air  reeling  in  whirlwind 
columns,  white  with  the  dust  of  the  desert,  up,  up,  and  vanish- 
ing into  the  sky.  Waves  of  heat  rolled  like  billows  across  the 
valley,  the  old  shores  became  indistinct,  the  whole  lowland 
unreal.  Shades  of  misty  blue  crossed  over  it  and  disappeared. 
Lakes  with  ragged  shores  gleamed  out,  reflecting  the  sky,  and  in 
a  moment  disappeared." 

The  following  descriptions  were  written  at  the  moment  of 
observation  and  in  every  case  confirmed  by  my  companions. 

A  common  mirage  often  seen  is  of  a  long  spit  of  land,  covered 
with  trees  and  set  off"  with  water  which  shimmers  and  glistens 
between  the  land  and  the  observer.  Again  and  again  from 
Frinks  and  elsewhere  have  I  observed  this,  the  land  spit  lined 
with  water,  reaching  out  apparently  for  miles  into  the  desert 
beyond. 

Here  is  a  large  and  beautiful  sheet  of  water  dotted  with  tiny 
islands  reaching  from  a  volcanic  butte  to  the  Cocopah  range, 
miles  away,  completely  covering  land  that  I  walked  over  a  week 
ago  and  which  I  must  traverse  this  afternoon.  Did  I  trust  only 
to  my  observation  I  could  swear  that  this  is  indeed  water,  lor 
to  the  right  of  this  same  butte  is  the  Salton  Sea  that  I  know  is 
water,  and  save  for  the  fact  that  the  "mirage  water"  is  of  a 
lighter  hue  than  the  sea,  one  is  just  as  clear  and  distinct  to  the 
vision  as  the  other. 


134  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

Standing  in  the  center  of  the  track  and  looking  up  or  down 
between  the  rails,  water  often  appears  to  flood  them  as  far  as 
the  eye  can  see.  This  mirage  is  many  times  accompanied  by 
a  slight  mistiness  above,  as  of  smoke  or  steam  arising. 

Oftentimes  the  mirage  from  the  southeast  side  of  the  desert 
looking  southwest  will  have  the  appearance  of  an  arm  of  the 
sea  flowing  smoothly  and  easily  up  to  the  bases  of  the  Cocopah 
Mountains.  All  the  intervening  country  is  a  vast,  placid,  rather 
lifeless,  yet  apparently  real  and  genuine  ocean. 

Where  I  now  sit  writing  (March  29,  1906)  in  my  boat,  anchored 
up  a  small  slough  on  the  east  side  of  the  Salton  Sea,  I  can  see  three 
distinct  and  separate  water  mirages  that  no  eye  can  possibly  dis- 
cern the  falsity  of.  Here  to  the  left  and  behind  me  is  the  genuine 
Salton  Sea,  the  whole  contour  of  which  I  have  studied  in  many 
hours  of  wearisome  rowing;  to  the  left,  well  up  in  the  foot-hills 
of  the  San  Bernardino  range  toward  Yuma,  are  the  curving  shores 
and  tiny  bays  of  another  Salton  Sea,  while  to  the  right  below  Signal 
Mountain  in  Mexico  the  Cocopah  range  is  split  up  into  small 
sugar-loaf  islands,  dome  islands,  and  patches  that  remind  me  of 
Nantasket  Island  more  than  anything  else,  with  a  vast  lake  lying 
in  the  whole  basin  beyond  the  Salton  to  the  mountains.  The 
other  sea  is  between  these  two  on  the  alkali  flats  that  separate  the 
real  Salton  from  the  mirage  Salton.  It  is  peculiar  white  water, 
with  dancing  waves  scintillating  in  the  afternoon  sun. 

I  have  a  friend  who  assures  me  that  on  one  occasion  he  and  a 
party  of  strangers  were  on  the  desert  in  the  middle  of  summer, 
when  the  heat  waves  combined  with  the  mirage  produced  most 
peculiar  effects.  One  member  of  the  party  had  never  seen  a 
mirage.  When  the  phenomenon  appeared  he  was  surprised  be- 
yond measure.  The  mirage  took  on  the  appearance  of  a  vast  sea, 
and  the  vibration  of  the  heat  waves  gave  a  vivid  resemblance  to 
white-capped  breakers  rolling  in  upon  the  shore  that  made  the 
illusion  perfect.  The  stranger  expressed  astonishment  at  the 
presence  of  the  ocean.  He  "thought  it  was  on  the  other  side  of 
the  mountains."  When  told  that  it  was  a  mirage,  an  illusion, 
he  was  grossly  offended,  and  thought  his  companions  were  making 
fun  of  him.  Couldn't  he  believe  his  own  eyes  ?  Had  he  not  seen 
the  ocean  often  enough  to  know  it  when  he  saw  it  ?     Just  then  an 


Storms,  Mirages,  and  Desert  Illusions  13-3 

added  illusion  came  in  the  form  of  that  which  he  took  to  be  a 
schooner,  and  in  triumph  the  believer  called  upon  the  unbelievers 
to  see  the  vessel.  Did  not  this  prove  his  contention  ?  Did  imi- 
tation or  mock  vessels  come  on  an  imitation  or  mock  sea  ?  There 
was  the  ship,  and,  ah!  there  were  others,  and  breakers,  and  the 
shore,  and  trees  beyond,  and  houses,  all  of  which  confirmed  him 
in  his  belief.  And  not  until  the  mirage  finally  disappeared  would 
he  believe  that  he  had  been  deceived. 

Mirages  are  not  always  the  effect  of  heat.  I  have  often  seen 
mirages  in  the  cool  of  the  early  morning,  when  the  desert  sky  was 
completely  overcast  and  not  one  ray  of  direct  sunshine  anywhere. 
Even  now,  as  I  write,  the  conditions  are  like  this,  yet  far  to  the 
south,  seen  between  the  lava  piles  south  of  Volcano  station,  is  a 
great  sea  in  which  the  Sierra  Prieta  bathes,  while  the  upper  end 

| 

<&       4       h  A  . 

l  I      7*4  J  k  mm  a  '   fc** 

it         k     Jli  |#*i^»V'''  " 


w: 


■  <5ltt-_  A  desert  mirage 


of  the  Cocopah  Mountains  is  cut  up  into  islands  and  long  spits 
of  land  on  which  trees  are  growing,  and  between  us  vessels  are 
moving  to  and  fro.  The  same  condition  exists  at  the  southern 
end  of  the  Cocopahs  —  as  far  as  visible — the  whole  of  that  end 
being  lost  completely  in  the  mirage-like  effects  which  cut  up  the 
range  into  islands  and  gigantic  mushrooms  that  seem  to  remain 

to  C5  to 

supported   by  most   slender  stems. 

This  peculiar  style  of  mushroom  mirage  is  to  be  seen  almost 
daily  on  the  Colorado  Desert  anywhere  south  of  the  Indio.  Vol- 
canic piles  that  stand  out  isolated  on  the  desert  floor  are  slowly 
transformed  from  solid  masses  with  broad  bases  anchoring  them 
to  the  earth  to  shimmering,  tottering,  purplish  mushrooms  and 
toadstools  of  gigantic  size,  oftentimes  of  irregular  round  shape, 
sometimes  perfectly  round,  but  more  often  to  a  somewhat  regu- 
larly shaped  gigantic  cigar,  each  end  of  which  rests  on  "mirage 
water"  which  glistens  and  shimmers  in  the  desert  sun. 


136  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

On  the  early  morning  of  March  29,  as  we  rowed  across  the 
south  end  of  the  Salton  Sea,  the  whole  San  Bernardino  range 
toward  the  east  offered  us  an  ever-changing  panorama  of  mirage 
effects.  My  companion  and  I  both  saw  it  at  one  and  the  same 
time.  He  cried  out  as  I  was  about  to  do  so,  "Cantilever  bridge 
and  structural  ironwork!"  It  verily  appeared  like  a  vast  canti- 
lever bridge,  with  somewhat  irregular  steelwork,  but  clearly 
defined,  connected  with  a  vast  extension  of  piled-up  steel  columns 
that  reminded  one  more  of  the  steel-framed  sky-scrapers  of  New 
York  in  the  process  of  construction  than  anything  else. 

One  afternoon,  looking  toward  the  southeast  where  I  knew  the 
tops  of  the  great  sand  piles  of  the  old  sea  beach  alone  could  be 
seen,  we  were  treated  to  a  series  of  mirages  of  singular  delicacy  of 
color  and  grace  of  outline.  The  color  was  of  straw,  or  with  a 
very  delicate  tinge  of  salmon,  and  the  shapes  were  of  trees,  of 
varying  forms  and  varieties,  but  all  swaying  to  and  fro  in  the 
breeze. 

The  mirage  is  an  optical  delusion,  yet  it  seems  real.  I  often 
feel  as  I  gaze  upon  it  that  it  is  a  type  of  one  side  of  mankind. 
People  look  at  their  fellows,  and  think  they  see  certain  things. 
They  imagine  palaces  and  temples  and  towers  and  lakes  and 
bubbling  fountains.  When  they  come  nearer  they  find  out  their 
mistake.  These  things  were  delusions;  there  was  no  reality  in 
them,  and  the  disappointed  go  away  and  refuse  to  see  the  good 
in  their  fellows  because  all  they  imagined  is  not  also  there.  The 
question  then  arises:  Is  the  ground  on  which  the  mirage  appears 
responsible  for  the  mirage  ?  Is  it  to  be  condemned  because  it 
does  not  fulfil  all  the  promises  of  the  mirage  ?  Scarcely.  Then 
should  the  disappointment  of  those  who  see  mirages  in  their  fel- 
lows be  visited  upon  the  innocent  victims  of  their  imagination  ? 
Let  us  be  more  rational  in  our  dealings  with  our  fellows.  Let 
us  not  condemn  them  for  things  they  should  not  be  held 
accountable  for,  but  let  us  rather  seek  for  all  that  is  good  and 
hold  that  up  for  the  survey  of  ourselves  and  others. 

A  question  is  often  raised  on  the  desert  by  cattle-men  and 
others  that  is  worthy  of  serious  consideration.  Do  cattle  see 
water,  or  do  they  smell  it.  If  they  only  smell  it,  then  a  mirage 
can  never  lure  them  to  death.    Most  cattle-men  will  tell  you  that 


Storms,  Mirages,  and  Desert  Illusions 


137 


cattle  never  see  water.  I  do  not  believe  it.  I  have  seen  cattle 
struggling  to  reach  mirages,  and  in  the  southwestern  corner  of 
the  Colorado  Desert,  where  more  mirages  appear  than  anywhere 
else,  are  the  bones  of  thousands  of  cattle.  In  one  of  Mr.  Eytel's 
forceful  paintings  a  drove  of  cattle  is  being  taken  across  the 
desert.  In  the  distance  behind  them  lies  a  mirage.  The  cattle 
have  stopped  and  two  of  them  are  bellowing  in  their  anger  that 
they  are  not  allowed  to  go  and  quench  their  thirst  in  the  mirage 
water.  Critics  have  censured  the  picture  as  untrue  to  life.  I 
take  issue  with  them  on  the  grounds 
stated.  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  the  matter 
discussed  by  scientists  and  others. 

The  intense  heat  of  the  desert  by  day 
and   cold  by  night   are  often    matters    of 
much  wonder  to  those  who  have  not  given 
the  subject  much    thought.     In  his  expe- 
riences on  the  desert,  Coville  the  botanist 
says:   "Often  on  the  desert  in  winter,  after 
working   during    a    sunny   afternoon   in   a 
warm    and    comfortable    tent,    we    found 
ourselves  within  a  few  minutes  after  sunset 
chilled   and  shivering.     We    ob- 
served a    frequent    daily    fall  of 
temperature   from    700  Fahren- 
heit to  a  few  degrees  below  the 
freezing    point.      In    summer    a 
similar  daily  range   occurs,   but 
with  higher  extremes." 

While  a  full  presentation  of 
the  question  is  one  that  would  demand  far  more  knowledge 
than  I  possess,  a  few  simple  statements  may  help  to  a  clearer 
understanding.  All  the  heat  of  the  earth  comes  from  the  sun. 
Tyndall  has  proven  that  heat  is  but  a  mode  of  motion.  The 
vibration  of  the  sun's  rays  cause  a  corresponding  vibration  ot 
the  ether  which  surrounds  the  known  universe.  This  ether 
acts  in,  and  through,  and  independently  of,  the  aqueous  vapor 
of  our  globe.  The  ether  vibrations,  when  they  strike  the 
earth,  set  the   surface   molecules   in   action,  which  thus    become 


Pack-burros  on  the  desert 


138  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

radiant  heat  waves  and  have  their  own  initial  power  to  ra- 
diate. But  the  sun's  rays  are  different  in  quality  from  the 
earth's  rays,  and  substances  that  absorb  the  one  do  not  neces- 
sarily absorb  the  other.  Through  a  layer  of  water,  for  example, 
one-tenth  of  an  inch  in  thickness,  the  sun's  rays  are  trans- 
mitted with  comparative  freedom;  but  through  a  layer  half 
this  thickness  no  single  earth  heat-ray  could  pass.  This  singular 
fact  accounts  for  the  heated  envelope  of  the  earth  that  preserves 
life  at  night.  Were  there  no  aqueous  envelope  the  heat  of  the 
sun  during  the  day  would  be  converted  into  earth  heat  and  would 
be  radiated  back  into  the  ether  with  great  rapidity.  But  when 
night-time  came  and  there  were  no  heat  waves  from  the  sun  the 
little  heat  remaining  in  the  surface  molecules  of  the  earth  would 
be  so  speedily  radiated  that  severe  frost  would  ensue  and  life 
be  destroyed,  ere  the  morrow's  sun  could  shine.  This  is  now 
prevented  by  the  absorption  of  the  earth's  heat-rays  by  the 
aqueous  vapor  surrounding  the  earth.  This  becomes  heated  by 
the  absorption  of  the  earth's  heat  waves,  and  retaining  the  mo- 
tion during  the  night,  wraps  our  earth  around  in  its  warm  envelope 
to  our  protection  from  the  deadly  chill  that  would  otherwise 
ensue. 

Here,  then,  we  have,  the  secret  of  the  intense  heat  of  the  desert 
in  the  daytime  and  its  corresponding  coolness  during  the  night 
(except  of  course  in  those  special  cases  where  other  factors  come 
in  and  complicate  the  problem).  During  the  day  the  sun's  heat 
waves  strike  the  floor  of  the  desert  with  slight  interference  or 
interruption  from  either  aqueous  vapor  or  impurities  in  the  air. 
This  gives  great  direct  heat.  But  as  there  is  little  or  no  aqueous 
vapor  in  the  atmosphere  above  the  desert  floor  there  is  nothing 
to  absorb  and  retain  the  responsive  earth  heat  waves,  and  when 
the  sun  goes  down  these  earth  waves  speedily  give  out  their 
force  and  a  rapid  lowering  of  the  temperature  is  the  result. 

Wherever  drought  reigns,  whether  in  the  Sahara  of  Africa,  on 
the  heights  of  the  Himalaya,  in  the  heart  of  Australia,  or  on  the 
Colorado  Desert,  the  effect  is  the  same  and  refrigeration  at  night 
is  most  painful. 


The  Colors  of  the  Desert 


139 


CHAPTER  X 


The  Colors  of  the  Desert 

DO  not  propose  to  attempt  a  learned  dissertation 

upon  the  causes  of  the  marvelous  color  effects 

seen  upon  the  desert.     I  find  in  my  note-books 

various  descriptions  written  with  especial  refer- 

-^^>J::-  ence    to    color  and  I    deem  these  of  sufficient 

*']L>^        interest  to  present  in  this  form. 

In   all  ordinary  conditions  the  colors  of  the 

desert  are  well  defined  and  distinct.     Especially 

are    the  shadows    strong-    and    vivid.      The  blacks   remind  one 

of  the  shadows  cast  by  the  mountain  ranges  on  the  moon,  when 

observed  through  a  powerful  telescope. 

During  the  sand-storms  the  mountains  that  shut  in  the  north- 
western end  of  the  desert  undergo  marvelous  transformations. 
The  atmosphere  becomes  charged  with  fine  sand  and  dust  par- 
ticles upon  which  the  sun  reflects  and  plays  as  the  clouds  that 
intervene  between  it  and  the  dust  allow.  Late  in  the  afternoon 
this  dust  becomes  luminous  with  a  half-transparent  color-light 
that  glows  and  shines  and  makes  the  whole  mountainside 
appear  as  a  veritable  mountain  of  transfiguration;  as  if  the 
"glory  of  the  Lord"  shone  upon  it.  One  feels  in  looking  at  it 
that  he  is  on  holy  ground  and  must  not  only  take  his  shoes  from 
his  feet  but  uncover  his  head  in  awesome  reverence. 

Then,  if  his  attention  be  called  away,  and  he  look  again  fif- 
teen minutes  later,  the  divine  glow  has  gone,  and  a  sullen,  bluish, 
sodden  effect  takes  its  place.  The  sand-veil  is  there,  but  no 
longer  illumined  by  the  sun.  A  little  later,  and  it  becomes  a 
misty  purple,  and  night  finally  curtains  it  with  its  darker  shades. 
The  sun  is  just  rising  over  the  Chocolate  range.  For  an  hour 
the  eastern  sky  has  been  a  changing  glory  of  orange,  fiery  red, 
and  madder  brown.     Now  as  the  sun  bursts  over  the  hills  and 


140 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


floods  the  desert  the  range  to  the  left  is  outlined  with  such  dis- 
tinctness as  to  suggest  a  black  silhouette  on  a  white  background; 
but  the  color  is  royal  Tyrian  purple  instead  of  black,  and  the 
background  a  luminous  pearly  opalescence  that  shades  off  into 
the  pure  blue  seen  only  over  desert  and  southern  ocean  skies. 

At  this  early  hour  the  light  shining  at  so  low  an  angle  reveals 
the  different  ridges  of  the  San  Bernardino  range  with  a  vivid- 
ness that  is  startling  to  one  who  has  seen  them  before  only  in 
the  direct  lisht  of  noon.  Now  each  ridge  stands  forth  as  clear 
and  distinct  in  its  own  individuality  as  can  be.  The  "pip,  pip, 
pip"  of  the  quail  is  heard  on  every  hand;  the  wild  deluge  of 


Group  of  palms  on  the  desert 

song  of  the  mocking-bird;  the  cheery  warble  of  the  linnet;  and 
from  the  distance  the  faint  crow  of  the  domestic  rooster  calling 
his  family  out  to  gather  the  early  worm. 

The  peculiar  lighting  of  these  early  sunrise  hours  well  repays 
much  and  careful  watching.  The  beams  of  light  strike  through 
certain  passes  in  the  mountains,  flooding  slopes  and  peaks  and 
ridges  beyond  with  patches  of  vivid  light  and  color,  while  other 
places  are  kept  in  shadow  by  the  arresting  of  the  sun's  beams 
by  giant  mural  faces  or  higher  peaks  close  at  hand. 

How  the  delicate  tints  of  the  desert  appeal  to  you  seen  in  con- 
trast with  the  strong  colors!      Here  are  the  browns,  grays,  reds, 


The  Colors  of  the  Desert  141 

and  greens  of  the  mountains,  with  the  greens  and  purples  which 
shade  into  blackness,  and  stand  out  vividly  against  the  pure 
white  of  the  snowy  peaks  beyond.  Then  there  are  the  deep 
black  gashes  of  the  canyons,  with  here  and  there  a  patch  of 
delicate  pea-green  showing  that  trees  are  growing  near  running 
water  in  the  mouths  of  the  canyons. 

At  dawn,  and  equally  at  sundown,  everything  seems  bathed 
in  a  soft  greenish  gold  atmosphere  giving  to  animals,  moving 
figures  of  men,  silent  wagons,  gently  waving  trees  a  peculiarly 
mysterious  appearance  that  one  can  hardly  describe  and  that 
is  never  felt  or  seen  away  from  the  desert. 

On  the  morning  of  March  30,  when  I  awoke,  the  whole  sky  was 
filled  with  clouds.  The  stars  were  scarcely  to  be  seen;  only  one 
here  and  there.  The  air  was  motionless  above,  though  there 
was  a  slight  surface  breeze  blowing  from  the  east.  Everything 
was  somber  and  gray  until  dawn.  Then  began  the  color  changes. 
When  the  .sun  emerged  it  was  cautiously,  as  if  afraid  of  disturb- 
ing the  quiet  peace  of  this  tranquil  scene.  There  was  none  of 
that  vigor  and  force  and  decision  that  one  feels  in  Browning's 
sunrise: 

"  Faster  and  more  fast, 

O'er  night's  brim,  day  boils  at  last: 

Boils,  pure  gold,  o'er  the  cloud-cup's  brim 

Where  spurting  and  suppressed  it  lay, 

For  not  a  froth-flake  touched  the  rim 

Of  yonder  gap  in  the  solid  gray 

Of  the  Eastern  cloud,  an  hour  away; 

But  forth  one  wavelet,  then  another,  curled, 

Till  the  whole  sunrise  not  to  be  suppress'  df 

Rose,  reddened,  and  its  seething  breast 

Flickered  in  bounds,  grew  gold,  then  overflowed  the  world." 

Here  the  quiet  gentleness  was  most  apparent.  The  color 
changes  also  came  quietly.  Slowly  the  San  Jacinto  range  deep- 
ened into  a  sullen  purple,  entirely  different  and  distinct  from  that 
luminous  purple  that  is  the  joy  of  color  lovers  in  Southern  Cali- 
fornia mountains.  Only  for  a  few  minutes  was  there  any  tinge 
of  color  in  the  sky,  and  that  was  a  peculiarly  rich  salmon  red; 
but,  all  at  once,  right  in  the  center  of  the  field  of  vision  a  single 


142 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


cluster  —  if  I  may  so  speak  —  of  the  peaks  of  the  Sierra  San 
Jacinto  blossomed  into  a  luminous  madder  lake,  —  not  of  solid, 
pure  color,  but  variegated  enough  to  give  it  rich  beauty,  —  all 
sunlit  and  gorgeous.  The  startling  vividness  of  it  was  enhanced 
by  the  somber  purple  of  the  rest  of  the  range.  It  seemed  as  if  it 
and  the  immediate  sky  had  been  deluged  with  a  strong  blue 
solution,  such  as  the  laundresses  use,  only  of  quadruple  strength. 
Even  the  snow-caps  on  San  Jacinto  and  San  Gorgonio  were  blue, 
and  this  dolorous  color  served  marvelously  to 
accentuate  the  gorgeous  brilliancy  of  the 

colored  peaks. 


A  large  palm  group 
in  Palm  Canyon 


This  morning  with  the  sky  all  somber  and  colorless  the  Salton 
Sea  is  a  pale  yellowish  green.  I  have  never  seen  it  of  this  color 
before,  though  this  is  not  an  unusual  color  for  the  desert.  A 
similar  tone  is  seen  extending  along  the  foot-hills  from  the  northern 
edge  of  the  alkali  flats  of  the  sea  until  the  feet  of  the  Chocolate 
and  San  Bernardino  Mountains   are  reached. 

I  have  also  seen  the  Salton  Sea  when  it  possessed  a  deep  violet 


The  Colors  of  the  Desert 


143 


color.  This  was  in  the  late  afternoon  when  the  direct  rays  of 
sunlight  were  no  longer  upon  the  water. 

The  desert  sky  is  sometimes  so  luminously  splendid,  so  glow- 
ingly glorious,  so  fit  for  the  pathway  of  cherubim  and  seraphim, 
of  angels  and  archangels,  nay,  of  the  very  God,  that  one  feels  he 
is  looking  on  the  streets  of  heaven,  and  he  waits  expectantly, 
entranced,  breathless,  as  if  at  any  moment  stately  and  loving 
presences  might  pass  which  only  the  pure  in  heart  could  gaze  upon 
and  live.  And  then  comes  the  passionate  prayer:  "Oh  that  I 
might  see  them  and  live!  Oh  that  I  might  see  them  even  though 
I  die,  if  thereby  all  evil  be  taken  from  my  heart!" 

As  I  look  at  these  col- 
orings and  remember  the 
attempts  I  have  seen  on 
canvas  to  reproduce  them 
and  then  the  comments  I 
have  heard  on  these  can- 
vases I  am  stricken  with 
amazement  at  the  self-con- 
ceit and  folly  of  men  who 
constitute  themselves  critics 
of  the  work  of  other  men. 
Not  for  the  attempt  of  the 
artist  to  reproduce  have  I 
any  rebuke.  He  is  but 
doing  his  duty.  He  sees 
and  therefore  should  try  to 

make  others  see.  Yet  however  much  he  fails,  the  critic  who 
knows  nothing  of  the  desert  and  its  colorings,  save  what  he  has 
seen  as  his  Pullman,  with  blinds  drawn,  has  dashed  over  the 
desert,  will  complacently  and  with  an  ex  cathedra  air  exclaim: 
"But  the  coloring!  It  is  impossible!  No  one  ever  saw  such 
colors  as  that  in  Nature!" 

That  is  what  I  object  to.  No  one  —  not  even  Titian,  Velas- 
quez, Rembrandt,  Corot  —  is  competent  to  make  such  a  state- 
ment unless  he  has  first  reverently,  and  as  a  learner,  gone  to  the 
desert  and,  with  alert  eyes,  watched  and  watched  and  watched. 
Late  at  night,  early  in  the  morning,  through  the  night  even,  and 


A  Coahuilla  basket 

of  beautiful  natural  colors 


144         The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

at  all  hours  between  dawn  and  sunset,  he  must  keep  his  vision 
ready  and  his  soul  receptive.  Then,  and  only  then,  is  he  com- 
petent to  tell  what  the  Divine  Colorist  puts  upon  the  skies  and 
the  earth  for  his  pupils  to  copy.  For  the  desert  is  God's  color 
show-room;  His  divine  exhibition  salon  to  which  He  freely  in- 
vites all  men,  —  artists,  colorists,  decorators,  mere  lovers  of  color, 
—  men  and  women  with  alert  eyes  and  awakened  souls  to  see 
beauty  in  all  its  nakedness:  beauty  so  sublime,  so  awful,  so 
stupendous,  so  awe-inspiring,  as  to  be  capable  of  full  compre- 
hension only  by  those  souls  that  love  the  real  more  than  the  false, 
the  simple  more  than  the  complex,  the  nakedness  of  Nature  more 
than   the   prudery   of  Man. 


On  the  trail  to  San  Gorgonio  Mountain 


Wild  Animals  of  the  Desert 


145 


CHAPTER  XI 


Some  Wild  Animals  of  the  Desert 

AM  neither  zoologist,    ornithologist,  nor    hunter. 
,^i        Nor  do  I  propose  to  make  this  chapter  a  cata- 
logue.    I  merely  wish  to  record  a  few  personal 
observations. 

Life  on  the  desert  is  as  hard  for  animals  as 
man;  the  struggle  for  existence  as  great.  When 
one  first  comes  in  conflict  with  the  fierce  heat, 
the  sand-storms,  the  long  stretches  of  alkali  or 
salt-sown  soil,  the  piles  of  moving  sand-dunes,  the  scarcity  of  water, 
he  is  assured  that  no  animal  life  of  any  kind,  by  any  chance,  can 
sustain  itself  in  such  an  untoward  place.  But,  as  I  have  fully 
shown,  these  are  not  all  of  the  desert.  There  are  fertile  spots, 
delicious  oases,  mountain  slopes  and  canyons,  on  and  in  which 
plenty  of  verdure  grows,  where  pure  mountain  water  flows,  in 
abundant  volume,  so  that,  when  the  conditions  are  all  considered, 
animal  life  on 
the  desert  does 
not  seem  quite 
as  strange  and 
impossible  as 
before. 

The   largest 
wild  animal  seen 
on  the  desert  is 
the    mountain 
lion,  more  com- 
monly  known   as    the   panther    (Fells   concolor).     This   member 
of  the  carnivorous  tribe  is  large  enough  to    thoroughly  frighten 
an   unarmed  man,  —  as  I  always  am,  —  unless,  conscious  of  his 
own    kindly    intentions,     he    is    willing    to    take    those    of    the 

Vol.  I. -10 


Mountain  lion 


146 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


animal  for  granted.  This  is  not  always  a  safe  thing  to  do,  as  the 
mountain  lion  will  attack  a  man  if  he  is  driven  by  either  hunger 
or  fear.  A  friend  and  I  were  *  .ce  climbing  a  steep  mountain 
trail  in  the  heart  of  a  dense  fore  r.  I  was  in  the  rear,  carry- 
ing on  my  shoulder  a  very  heavy  tripod,  reinforced  with  brass, 
and  with  long  spikes  at  the  ends  of  the  legs.  Stopping  for 
breath,  I  happened  to  look  up,  and  there  on  the  branch  of  a  tree, 
not  ten  feet  away,  was  a  large  mountain  lion  just  about  to  leap 
upon  my  unconscious  friend.     It  was  the  work  of  a  moment  to 


"  Just  about  to  leap  upon  my  unconscious  friend  " 


swing  up  my  tripod  in  lance-like  fashion  over  my  friend's  shoulder 
in  the  uncontrollable  impulse  to  do  something,  what  I  did  not 
know.  Was  it  good  fortune,  or  chance,  or  Providence  that  pointed 
the  spikes  of  one  of  the  tripod's  legs  at  such  an  angle  as  to  pene- 
trate the  eye  and  brain  of  the  leaping  animal,  swerve  it  from  its 
course,  render  ineffective  its  wild,  death-dealing  stroke,  and  so 
blind  it  that  a  few  blows  from  the  brassy  end  of  the  tripod  killed 
it  ?  The  remarkable  thing  of  it  all  was  that  my  friend  was  not 
only  unharmed,  but  almost  unaware  of  what  had  happened  until 
it  was  all  over.  He  was  an  old  man  of  somewhat  slow  mind,  and 
when  he  heard  my  exclamation  as  I  threw  up  the  tripod  he  turned 
around  to  see  me  thrown  topsyturvy  down  the  bank.  The  cause 
of  it  he  did  not  see.  Before  he  was  aware  of  it,  his  amazement 
was  made  complete  by  my  sudden  and  energetic  rising,  picking 
up  the  tripod  and  fiercely  swinging  it  upon  the  head  of  some 
prostrate  creature  which,  until  I  struck  it,  had  not  made  the  slightest 
sound.     Then  it  began  to  shriek  and  scream  with  a  fierceness 


Wild  Animals  of  the  Desert 


147 


that  was  appalling.  Being  blinded  in  the  one  eye,  and  possibly 
sympathetically  affected  so  as  to  be  unable  to  see  with  the  other, 
his  frantic  strokes,  which  assuredly  would  have  killed  had  they 
fallen  upon  either  of  us,  went  wild,  and  the  long  and  strong  tripod 
with  its  brass  top,  which  had  so  often  been  scoffed  at  by  my 
camera  friends  as  cumbersome  and  ugly,  out-of-date  and  pre- 
posterously heavy,  became  a  most  formidable  weapon  in  the 
hands  of  a  strong  man.  In  far  less  time  than  it  has  taken  me  to 
write  this  story,  the  animal  was  dead  at  our  feet.  The  force  with 
which  he  sprang  can  be  understood  by  the  fact  that  the  wooden 
part  of  the  tripod  beyond  the  spike  had  crushed  the  bones  sur- 
rounding the  eye,  and  had  penetrated  to  a 
depth  of  fully  an  inch  and  a  half. 

The  first  time  I  saw  a  mountain  lion  was 
when  he  was  unconscious  of  my  presence. 
I  had  come  upon  him  accidentally,  and  he 
sat,  the  very  embodiment  of  dignity,  as  calm 
and  serene  as  a  huge  tomcat,  his  head  erect, 
paws  outstretched,  as  if  enjoying  the  won- 
derful outlook  that  had  so  enchanted 
me.  He  was  sleek  and  fat,  and  his 
skin  of  good  color.  Save  for  a  patch 
of  almost  dead  black  on  the  upper 
lip  and  reaching  out  to  both  ears, 
his  body  was  a  tawny  brownish 
yellow,  with  a  streak  down  the  spine 
of  slightly  darker  color.  The  belly 
was  of  a  much  lighter  yellow,  almost  a  dirty  white.  The  tail 
was  long  and  bushy  at  the  end,  which  was  darker  in  color, 
almost  black.  He  was  on  the  edge  of  one  of  the  San  Jacinto 
"forest  islands,"  where  deer  are  not  scarce,  and  from  his  sleek 
and  self-satisfied  appearance  I  assumed  he  had  just  slain  and 
eaten  his  share  of  a  deer.  Whether  he  saw  me  or  not  I  do  not 
know,  for  I  edged  away  and  never  saw  him  again. 

In  hunting  deer  they  are  very  wary  and  stealthy.  They  have 
all  the  feline's  noiselessness  and  ability  to  steal  on  their  prey. 
What  terrible  shoulders  they  have,  how  muscular,  and  how 
powerful!     How  swifter  than  any  human  motion  is  the  blow  of 


Mountain  lion 


148 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


-  ^^-:^ 


•+/£ 


.  j- 


&v 


\. 


■J 


those  paws,  in  each  of  which  are  steel-sharp  claws  that  tear  to 
the  heart  of  their  victims,  through  skin,  muscles,  and  flesh! 
Long-bodied,  as  wiry  as  a  snake,  more  serpentine  than  the  tiger, 
the  mountain  lion  is  preeminently  fitted  to  be  a  hunter  of  deer, 
mountain  sheep,  or  rabbits.  It  is  very  seldom  he  is  seen  down 
on  the  "floor"  of  the  desert.     The  mountain  is  his  range,  for 

there  he  finds  his 
prey.  With  a  craft 
that  seems  almost 
like  conscious 
thought  he  steals 
down  to  the  edge 
^   of  a  precipice  and 

,  ,       ,   .    ,.  looks  over  into  the 

Mountain  Hon 

watching  his  prey  forest  valley  be- 
neath where  the 
innocent  deer  are 
browsing.  Then,  with  stealthy  but  swift  tread  he  finds  his  way 
down  and  around  to  where  he  can  best  sneak  upon  the 
helpless  and  simple  creature.  With  one  terrific  spring,  generally 
without  any  vocal  noise,  he  lands  upon  the  back  of  his  victim, 
gives  one  or  two  stunning  blows  and  tearings  with  those  awful 
paws,  then  the  crunch  of  his  teeth 
into  the  spine  tells  that  the  killing 
is  done. 

On  the  Pacific  Coast  the  mountain 
lion  attains  as  large  a  size  as  three 
hundred  pounds  and  has  a  maxi- 
mum length  of  eleven  feet  from 
head  to  tip  of  the  tail.  I  am  assured 
that  it  can  leap  fifty  feet  at  a  jump. 

It  must  not  be  thought  that  the 
mountain  lion,  the  wildcat,  or  the 
wolf  are  common  in  the  desert.  They  are  seldom  seen,  and 
each  year  they  become  rarer.  One  might  wander  for  years 
on  the  desert  and  never  see  one  of  any  of  them,  and  I  know  of 
many  desert  dwellers  who  are  totally  unaware  of  their  existence. 

The  wildcat  (Lynx  rufus)  is  not  so  long  in  body  as  the  moun- 


Mountain  lion  asleep 


Wild  Animals  of  the  Desert 


149 


tain  lion,  but  stockier  and  with  leonine  shoulders.  W  hile  I 
have  seen  trails  on  the  desert,  the  animal  itself  has  never  ap- 
peared in  sight  except  in  the  mountains  or  in  the  tree-lined 
portions  of  the  banks  of  the  Colorado  River.  There  is  some 
difference  between  the  common  American  wildcat  and  the  Texas 
species  (var.  maculatus),  and  it  is  possible  that  both  species  are 
found  in  the  range  of  the  Colorado  Desert.  I  have  seen  two 
specimens  also  which  do  not  exactly  conform  to  the  descriptions 
of  either.  The  base  color  was  a  lightish  red,  which  shaded  off 
into  light  gray  and  black.  Large  spots  of  the  reddish  color  were 
interspersed  on  the 
back  and  sides  and 
on  the  limbs.  The 
belly  was  pure  white. 
The  hair  was  long 
and  thick  and  small 
tufts  grew  on  the  tips 
of  the  ears.  One  of 
these  I  had  in  cap- 
tivity for  a  long  time. 
While  I  always 
watched  him  care- 
fully, he  grew  tame 
and  ate  from  my 
hand,  though  always 
with  a  suspicious  air 
as  if  he  thought  I 
intended   to    do    him   an   injury. 

One  was  caught  early  in  1906  in  Mecca,  where  he  had  doubt- 
less come  to  raid  hen-roosts.  He  is  said  to  be  an  adept  at  pulling 
shingles  from  the  roof  of  a  hen-roost,  and  helping  himself  to  the 
choicest  specimens. 

By  far  the  most  interesting  of  all  desert  animals  is  the  moun- 
tain sheep,  of  which  a  rare  variety  is  found  in  the  San  Jacinto 
range  on  the  desert  side,  way  down  into  the  peninsula.  It  is 
known  to  scientists  as  the  Ovis  Nelsoni.  The  sheep  seen  through- 
out California  generally  is  the  Ovis  Montana.  The  differences 
between  the  two  are  readily  apparent  in  that  the  southern  ani- 


150  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

mals  are  smaller  and  have  shorter  hair,  it  being  stiff  and  harsh 
and  well  calculated  to  give  its  wearer  protection  against  the 
severest  weather.  Its  color  is  softened  peachblow,  when  seen 
in  January  and  February,  but  later  in  the  summer,  while  it 
still  preserves  this  color,  it  is  less  striking  and  vivid.  Seen  in 
contrast  to  the  rich  and  deep  greens  of  the  trees,  and  with  the 
gray  granite  all  around,  two  or  three  of  them  give  a  note  of  color 
to  the  landscape  that  is  peculiarly  beautiful. 

The  specimens  that  I  have  seen  have  been  far  from  wild,  as 
I  had  been  led  to  expect.  While  curious  and  much  interested  in 
my  movements  they  did  not  scare  and  run  as  many  of  the  bands 
I  have  seen  in  the  Grand  Canyon  and  its  tributaries  have  always 
done.  Of  late  years  the  Indians  tell  me  they  have  hunted  them 
but  little  and  this  may  be  the  secret  of  their  tameness. 

They  can  be  found  in  the  high  regions  around  Mount  San 
Jacinto  and  on  the  Torres  and  Santa  Rosa  Mountains,  Palomar, 
the  Cuyamacas,  and  the  Cocopah  Mountains. 

The  first  description  (and  best,  for  a  short  and  popular  account) 
I  have  ever  seen  of  the  mountain  sheep  is  that  given  by  Fray 
Alonso  de  Benavides,  the  Franciscan,  in  1630.     He  says: 

"There  is  a  genus  of  mountain  sheep,  very  great  and  with 
very  bulky  horns.  And  up  a  wall,  though  it  be  high  and  smooth, 
they  clamber  at  speed;  or  up  a  high  cliff  as  it  were  by  a  ladder. 
And  frisking  or  in  flight  they  are  wont  to  fling  themselves  from 
the  highest  cliffs  downward,  falling  always  head  first,  and  they 
rise  immediately  with  all  nimbleness,  as  if  they  had  done  noth- 
ing." But  for  a  full,  popular,  and  intimate  account  full  of 
life  and  poetry,  there  is  no  description  in  English  literature  as 
full  and  vivid  as  that  of  John  Muir  in  "Mountains  of  Califor- 
ma. 

Mountain  sheep  were  numerous  in  the  early  days  of  the  gold 
excitement.  The  Indians  often  shot  them  with  their  arrows 
and  traded  the  meat  to  the  argonauts.  Dr.  Veatch,  in  1857, 
tells  of  passing  the  trail  of  a  flock  of  them,  and  seeing  the  head 
of  one,  probably  killed  by  an  Indian  hunter. 

Deer  and  antelope  are  both  fairly  plentiful  on  the  mountain- 
sides near  to  the  desert,  though  there  are  fewer  antelope  than 

1  Land  of  Sunshine,  Vol    XIII,  page  436. 


Wild  Animals  of  the  Desert 


151 


deer.  How  well  I  remember  my  first  sight  of  a  band  of  antelope! 
They  were  —  where  I  have  never  seen  one  since  —  miles  away 
from  the  mountains  and  in  the  very  heart  of  the  desert.  Their 
curiosity  was  the  thing  that  attracted  me  most.  Gentle,  beauti- 
ful, large-eyed  creatures,  they  look  and  look  and  look  as  if  fas- 
cinated, and  provided  you  can  keep  them  curious  and  free  from 
fear  they  will  remain  watching  for  a  long  time.  Any  one  who 
has  ever  seen  an  antelope  must  have  noticed  his  large  eyes.  They 
are  larger  than  a  deer's  and  far  more  protuberant.  They  are 
constantly  needed  for  their  owner's  safety  as,  though  his  sense 
of  smell  and  hearing  are  as  acute  as  those  of  the  deer,  he  seems 
to  trust  his  eyes  the  most.  When  curious  or  alarmed  they  seem 
to  bulge  out  and  such  is  the  scope  of  their  vision  that  they  can 
see  what  goes  on  behind  as  well  as 
in  front.  I  kept  this  band  watching 
me  for  several  minutes  by  lying  quite 
still  but  keeping  up  a  constant  flut- 
tering of  my  pocket-handkerchief. 
At  last  some  sudden  movement 
alarmed  them  and  they  were  off  like 
a  flash.  With  an  easy,  graceful, 
swinging  gait  they  bounded  along, 
fairly  annihilating  space,  and  in  an 
incredibly  short  time  were  out  of  sight. 
The  deer  is  a  far  more  interesting 
animal  to  me  than  the  antelope.  He 
is    so    gentle,    so   timid,  so  beautiful, 

and  yet  so  valiant  a  fighter  when  he  has  to  be,  and 
though  shy,  I  have  several  times  found  him  fearless  and 
friendly.  On  one  occasion  I  was  alone  in  the  mountains 
and  had  just  stopped  for  lunch.  I  had  thrown  saddle  and 
bridle  on  the  ground,  hobbled  my  horse,  and  with  a  long, 
dangling  neck-rope,  had  turned  him  loose  to  graze.  For  shel- 
ter I  had  stopped  in  a  little  clump  of  cottonwoods.  As  I 
rested  there,  half  reclining,  a  buck,  doe,  and  a  fawn  came 
along  into  the  copse,  browsing.  When  they  saw  me  they 
looked  curious  and  interested,  but  there  was  not  the  slight- 
est suggestion  of  alarm.     I  made  no  movement,  so  they  went  on 


American  deer 


152 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


browsing  and  for  nearly  half  an  hour  I  had  an  opportunity  to 
watch  them  at  close  quarters.  When,  finally,  I  arose  and  went 
for  my  horse,  they  disappeared  in  the  brush  some  distance  away, 
across  a  small  grassy  open  space.  But  let  them  be  alarmed  and 
how  they  fly  along!  They  and  the  antelope  are  larger  editions 
of  the  jack-rabbit.  With  leaps  and  bounds  they  dash  uphill  and 
down,  over  brush,  through  dense  chaparral,  and  over  sharp  and 
cutting  rocks  where  neither  horse  nor  man  can  follow  them, 
and  are  soon  lost  to  sight.  In  captivity  they  are  most  friendly 
and  will  follow  one  around  gently  and  shyly,  begging  for  sugar 
or  nuts.  I  have  had  wild  desert  deer  and  an- 
telope both  so  tame  in  a  few  weeks  that  they 
would  "nose"  into  my  pockets  for  sweets  or  nuts 
that  they  knew  I  generally  carried  for  them. 
They  are  also  fond  of  raisins. 

Coyotes  are  quite  common  on  the  Colorado 
Desert.  Madge  Morris  in  her  poem  tells  of  the 
continued  howling  of  the  predatory  creature,  and 
many  California  readers  will  remember  the  fierce 
controversy  that  raged  in  a  San  Francisco  paper, 
caused  by  Ambrose  Bierce's  sarcastic  and  scathing 
criticism  of  this  line  in  Mrs.  Wagner's  poem,  he 
contending  that  a  coyote  barked  and  did  not 
howl.  The  fact  is  that  coyotes  both  howl  and 
bark,  and  one  of  their  chief  characteristics  is  the 
power  to  prolong  and  apparently  multiply  their 
musical  performance  so  that  the  uninformed  lis- 
tener is  convinced  that  he  is  surrounded  by  a  fierce  herd  of 
frightfully  vicious  creatures  all  seeking  his  life  and  eager  to  drink 
his  blood.  When  several  animals  unite  their  howls,  barks,  yelps, 
and  almost  unearthly  screams  or  other  noises,  the  effect  surpasses 
belief.  "It  must  be  heard  to  be  fully  appreciated."  About  the 
only  good  thing  in  connection  with  the  coyote's  howling  is  that 
it  is  silent  throughout  the  day,  his  desire  for  musical  expression 
becoming  uncontrollable  only  at  night. 

The  coyote  is  a  small  prairie  wolf.  The  name  is  Spanish,  and 
is  pronounced  ki-o-ty  (the  y  short  as  in  happy).  Several  varie- 
ties   of  coyote    have   been   noted   on   the   desert.     In  size  they 


Don  Coyote 


Wild  Animals  of  the  Desert  153 

may  be  said  to  be  intermediary  between  the  fox  and  the  larger 
wolf,  though  they  vary  largely  in  the  different  species.  Don 
Coyote  possesses  a  sharp-pointed,  fox-like  muzzle,  upright  ears, 
and  a  long,  bushy  tail,  which  he  carries  with  a  grace  and  dignity 
peculiarly  his  own,  except  when  being  pursued,  when  it  is  hidden 
between  his  legs.  In  winter  the  hair  is  thick,  of  a  dirty  reddish 
gray,  with  a  few  black  hairs  generally  scattered  on  the  shoulders 
and  the  back.  The  skins,  when  properly  dressed,  make  fine  rugs 
and  buggy  robes,  one  that  I  used  to  have,  made  of  twelve  skins, 
having  given  me  good  service  for  many  years. 

Unlike  most  wild  animals,  the  coyote  does  not  seem  to  be  much 

disturbed  by  the  advance  of  civilization.     Other  animals  decrease 

and    finally   disappear,    but    the    coyote 

;\-\i  holds  his  own.    This  is  owing,  doubt- 

l  vb^.  less,  to  his  sneaking  and  thieving 

'  >„     v<i\r\^>-~.  habits.     Domestic 

-,  -.  •-  animals  and  fowls  af- 

n     '\  \  f  '\.y     ??>v  ford    him    a    never- 


,V  V      V.^1'      "^       ending  source  of  food 

'ff-  a        v-*Sf-    -  supply,  and  his  nat- 

i       J&-*   .-.,         ,.,       '"• .     ~  "  ural    craft,   cunning, 


\         ,''     A  dim,  shadowy     -_.   •   _'  "*   -  and   wariness    make 

^   e  him  a  hard  creature 

to  poison  or  trap.  Every  settler  in  the  desert  has  had  some 
experience  with  the  coyote,  and  many  are  the  stories  I  might  tell 
of  his  skill  in  evading  capture. 

Don  Coyote  is  no  epicure  in  the  matter  of  diet.  Given  the 
opportunity,  however,  he  would  feast  on  delicacies  like  a  lord. 
Indeed,  when  an  undefended  chicken  corral  is  unexpectedly  re- 
vealed to  him  he  kills  only  to  eat  the  daintiest  parts  of  the  bird. 
But  his  fastidiousness  leaves  him  —  as  it  does  many  another 
epicure  with  less  legs  —  when  hunger  becomes  his  companion. 
He  will  then  prowl  into  the  orchard  and  take  a  bite  of  watermelon, 
preferably  ripe,  of  course,  but  watermelon  anyhow  if  there  be 
nothing  better.  He  will  pick  up  the  apricots  that  drop  from  the 
tree  and,  indeed,  almost  any  kind  of  ripe  fruit,  and  is  especially 
fond  of  grapes  and  raisins.  The  mesquite  bean,  too,  is  one  of 
his  constant  foods,  and  the  Pimas  tell  a  story  in  which  the  coyote 


154  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

is  made  answerable  for  the  wide  distribution  of  their  god-given 
mesquite,  through  the  evacuation  of  the  undigested  beans.  A 
similar  story  is  told  by  the  Indians  around  Palm  Valley  as  to 
the  distribution  of  the  native  palm  (neo  Washingtonia  filifera)  by 
the  same  process.  The  coyote  is  very  fond  of  the  tiny  date  of 
this  palm.  He  also  eats  the  juniper  berry,  manzanita  berry,  and 
the  fruit  of  the  prickly  pear. 

His  fondness  for  sheep,  colts,  calves,  pigs,  goats,  and  chickens, 
and  wild  game,  such  as  deer,  antelope,  ducks,  and  geese,  is  par- 
tially offset  by  his  habits  as  a  scavenger.  Were  it  not  for  this  he 
would  be  an  unbearable  pest.  But  he  kills  large  numbers  of 
gophers,  rats,  ground  squirrels,  chipmunks,  prairie-dogs,  and 
rabbits.  The  latter  are  a  great  pest  at  times,  even 
,-.  on  the  desert.      When   there   is    a    scarcity   of  food 

>    *    I         they   gnaw   the    bark   from    fruit   and    shade  trees, 
' y    '"y         vines,  etc.,  so   as   often   to   destroy  them,   and   the 
/      J~  *■        coyote's  service  in  keeping  down  the  number  of  these 
tree-destroying  pests  is  invaluable. 
/  The  largest  coyote  I  ever  saw  was  shortly  before 

'  ■  V  we  entered  the  Salton  Sea,  when  coming  down  the 
•  '  '  Alamo  River.  He  was  on  the  bank  above  us,  in  full 
!;';vl  sight,  and  appeared  to  be  as  large  as  a  timber-wolf. 
1  A'  ^*  With  leisurely  steps  and  slow  he  moved  along, 
A  mere  stopping  now  and  again  to  get  a    good  look   at  us, 

outline      as  we  glided  forward  in  our  boats. 

Two  of  the  commonest  animals  of  the  desert  are 
the  jackass-rabbit,  so  called  from  his  long  ears,  and  the  cotton- 
tail, so  named  from  his  bunch  of  white,  fluffy,  cottony  tail. 

Did  you  ever  notice  the  difference  in  the  running  of  a  cotton- 
tail and  a  jack-rabbit  ?  It  is  then  that  you  realize  how  different 
the  two  animals  are.  The  cottontail  is  much  smaller  than  the 
jack-rabbit,  —  shorter  in  the  leg  and  body.  He  is  not  made  for 
swift  running.  He  hides  in  the  brush  and  is  seldom  found  away 
from  spots  where  there  is  plenty  of  undergrowth.  But  the 
jack-rabbit  is  built  for  speed.  He  is  a  racer.  His  "lines"  all 
show  either  design  for  that  purpose,  or  wonderful  development 
in  that  direction. 

Take  a  walk  with  your  swift  hound  some  afternoon  where  jack- 


Wild  Animals  of  the  Desert  155 

rabbits  most  do  congregate.  Don't  urge  your  dog  to  hunt,  but 
just  look  carefully  at  that  jack-rabbit,  as  your  dog  starts  him  from 
his  cover.  Legs?  No!  he  has  no  legs.  They  are  zigzags  of 
lightning  covered  with  fur.  He  is  the  most  perfect  running 
machine  ever  constructed.  His  hind  legs  touch  the  ground 
simultaneously,  and  the  moment  they  strike,  the  lightning  is  re- 
leased and  springing  muscles  and  nerves  shoot  the  body  forth, 
as  if  from  a  catapult.  It  is  an  incredible  bound,  and  the  process 
is  repeated  with  a  regularity  that  is  as  astonishing  as  it  is  easy. 
See  the  dog  who  chases  him!  He  is  working!  He  consciously 
puts  forth  all  his  strength  and  exhausts  every  effort  to  reach  the 
easily  moving  creature  ahead  of  him.  His  neck  is  stretched  out, 
his  legs  make  frantic  endeavors,  his  sides  heave  painfully  at  the 
desperate  work  of  his  lungs,  but  all  in  vain.  He  is  plainly  out- 
distanced and  his  howls  of  anger  and  vexation  soon  show  that  he 
is  aware  of  the  fact. 

The  kangaroo-rat  {Dipodomys  merriami  simiolus)  and  trade-rat 
are  both  found  on  the  desert.  One  day  as  I  sat  writing  in  the  old 
dining-house  at  the  Granite  Mine  I  heard  a  little  noise  above  me, 
and  there,  walking  on  the  roof-plate,  was  a  fine  specimen  of  a 
kangaroo-rat.  He  was  evidently  on  his  way  to  what  food  supplies 
he  could  pick  up  around  the  table.  His  large  eyes  and  scoop- 
shaped  ears,  his  soft  color  and  rapid,  easy  movements  were  most 
pleasing,  and  if  one  could  ignore  the  pilfering  and,  worse  still, 
the  gnawing  and  destroying  habits  of  the  creatures,  there  would 
be  much  to  enjoy  in  looking  at  them. 

The  trade-rat,  or  more  properly  the  bush-rat  (Neotoma  Mexi- 
cana),  is  one  of  the  interesting  animals  found  on  the  desert  edges. 
He  builds  his  nest  at  the  foot  of  a  tree  or  under  and  between 
rocks.  It  consists  of  a  series  of  arched  galleries  of  sticks  and 
twigs,  filled  up  with  moss  and  dung,  terminating  in  a  bed  of  moss, 
hair,  and  leaves.  When  at  the  base  of  a  tree  the  nest  is  piled  up 
instead  of  lengthened  out,  and  I  have  seen  them  four  and  five 
feet  high.  The  common  name,  given  to  this  rat,  is  caused  by  his 
trading  instincts.  Like  all  rodents  he  is  a  great  thief,  and  will 
gnaw  his  way  into  the  miner's  shack  or  settler's  shanty  at  the  first 
possible  moment.  Any  articles  that  are  left  around  are  likely 
to  strike  his  fancy, ''and  these  he   bears  away.     But  such  is   his 


156  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

scrupulous  regard  for  the  appearance  of  honesty  that,  for  the  box 
of  pills,  the  shaving-brush,  the  comb,  the  knife,  the  napkin-ring 
he  takes  away  he  brings  and  leaves  a  stick  in  its  place.  Hence  his 
name.  I  have  had  miners  and  others  tell  me  that  they  always 
knew  exactly  how  many  things  had  been  stolen  by  the  number 
of  sticks  piled  up,  these  clearly  determining  who  was  the  thief. 
But  this  I  regard  as  rather  apocryphal.  This  cunning  little 
creature  will  find  his  way  into  your  pockets  —  even  that  of  a 
woman's  dress  —  and  steal  therefrom  whatever  takes  his  fancy. 
I  was  sound  asleep  one  night,  when  all  at  once  something  struck 
me  on  my  body.  In  the  dim  light  I  saw  that  a  large  trade-rat 
had  jumped  upon  me.  Lying  perfectly  still  I  watched  him. 
My  trousers  were  hung  up  on  the  door  near  by  —  the  quarters 
were  small  —  and  as  I  watched  he  made  a  spring,  reached  the 
trousers  and  ran  up  them  to  the  top.  There  he  hunted  around, 
found  the  pockets  and  proceeded  to  rifle  them.  My  knife,  keys, 
and  a  piece  of  stick  I  used  as  a  wedge  on  my  camera  were  ab- 
stracted. The  money  was  too  slippery,  I  guess,  so,  going  to 
another  pocket  which  was  full  of  string,  he  proceeded  to  pull  this 
out,  dropping  everything  stealthily  upon  the  floor  beneath.  Just 
as  he  started  off  with  his  plunder  I  scared  him.  Now  what  I 
should  like  to  know  is:  Would  he  have  traded  with  me  for  every- 
thing he  took,  and  if  so,  wTould  he  have  put  his  exchanges  on  the 
floor,  or  have  put  them  in  my  pockets  ?  If  the  latter,  would  he 
have  put  everything  in  one  pocket  or  in  those  he  stole  from  ?  I 
wish  some  one  would  test  Neotome  Mexicana  in  these  interesting 
particulars. 

I  must  not  forget  to  state  that  trade-rats  are  very  fond  of  the 
succulent  leaves  and  young  shoots  of  the  various  species  of  cactus, 
so  that  they  thrive  well  on  the  desert,  provided  they  are  in  a  cactus 
zone. 


Some  Desert  Birds 


157 


CHAPTER   XII 


Some  Desert  Birds 


NE  great  compensation  for  many  unpleasant  and  dis- 
agreeable things  about  the  desert  is  that  there  is  a 
large  variety  of  birds  to  be  seen.  This  is  neither 
surprising  nor  remarkable  when  the  diversified  char- 
acter of  the  desert  is  understood.  Palm  Springs  has 
such  a  unique  climatic  character  that  expert  ornithol- 
ogists have  spent  much  time  there.  It  is  the  bound- 
ary line  between  thewarm,  desert  climate  of  the  south 
and  the  colder  climate  of  the  farther  north,  and  on 
this  account  one  of  the  best  locations  for  the  study 
of  migrating  birds  in  the  country. 

In  midwinter  of  1903-4   Professor  Joseph  Grinnell    of  Pasa- 
dena, California,  spent  nine  days  studying  the  birds  of  this  locality, 
and  in  The  Condor  for  March,  1904,  he  gives  a  most  interesting 
account  of  what  he   and   his   companions 
(chiefly  Mr.  Joseph  Mailliard)  found. 
The  desert  and  valley  quail  were 
both    found   in   abundance,   though, 
owing  to  the  persecution  of  both 
Indians  and  whites,  they  were  very 
wild.     Mr.   Mailliard   thus    com- 
ments   upon    the    differences    be- 
tween the  desert  quail  (Lophortyx 
gambeli)  and  the  valley  quail  {Lo- 
phortyx vallicolus): 

"The  notes  of  the  desert  quail  differ  from  those  of  the  valley 
quail  in  variety,  and  to  a  certain  extent  in  character,  though 
they  have  some  notes  in  common.  The  'crow'  of  the  latter 
consists  of  three  notes,  varying  in  length  and  accent  according 
to  the  call  given,  in  one  case  the  last  note  being  a  falling  one. 


1  Humming- 
bird 
and  nest 


158         The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

The  'crow'  of  the  desert  quail,  while  rather  similar  to  the  other, 
has  two  additional  notes  at  the  end,  rendered  in  a  softer  tone. 
Besides  the  alarm-calls  the  valley  quail  has  a  few  twittering  or 
conversational  notes,  while  the  other  species  has  a  lot  of  these, 
quite  varied  and  often  given  in  a  way  that  seems  remarkably 
loud  to  one  accustomed  only  to  the  notes  of  the  former.  Another 
peculiarity  of  the  desert  quail  is  the  queer  sound  that  it  makes 
as  it  rises  from  the  ground  on  being  surprised  into  flight  —  the 
sort  of  screeching  cackle,  on  a  small  scale,  that  a  hen  makes  when 
frightened  from  her  nest." 

In  some  parts  of  the  desert  both  species  are  found  in  large 
numbers,  and  they  are  unafraid,  as  neither  whites  nor  Indians 

have  attempted  to  shoot  them. 

In  the  winter  time,  in  the  most 
unexpected  places,  wherever  a  few 
trees  clustered,  I  have  been  delighted 
with  the  unconsciously  noble  singing 
of  the  mocking-birds  [Mimus  p.  leu- 
copterus). 

One  night  we  made  a  dry  camp, — 
that  is,  stopped  where  there  was  no 
water  for  beast  nor  for  man,  save  the 
little  in  the  canteen.  As  soon  as  the  sun  set  we  halted  the  burros, 
took  ofF  their  packs  and  turned  them  loose  to  graze.  They  wished 
to  hover  about  "camp  "  for  the  water  we  could  not  give  and  finally 
we  were  compelled  to  drive  them  away.  With  reluctance  and 
remonstrance  clearly  expressed  in  their  reproachful  eyes  and 
dejected  mien  they  wandered  ofF  and  soon  consoled  themselves 
with  what  forage  they  could  pick  up,  especially  enjoying  the 
gallenas  grass  which  grows  profusely  for  a  mile  or  so. 

After  a  frugal  evening  meal  it  was  not  long  before  we  unrolled 
our  blankets  and  went  ofF  to  sleep.  During  the  night  I  was 
awakened  by  the  sweet  and  prodigal  melody  of  a  mocking-bird, 
perched  on  a  tree  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  For  a  few  moments 
I  thought  myself  at  home  in  Pasadena,  listening  to  the  glorious 
warbler  who  often  cheers  my  midnight  or  later  hours  from 
among  the  orange  trees,  and  then,  suddenly  as  I  rolled  over  in 
my  blankets,  my  leg  struck  the  sharp  thorn  of  a  cactus  which  the 


Some  Desert  Birds 


159 


night  wind  had  blown  into  the  right  spot  and  in  a  moment  the 
dear  illusion  was  gone  in  the  piercing  pain  of  the  present. 

In  the  morning  we  found  a  line  of  trees,  mesquites,  cotton- 
woods,  and  desert  willows,  showing  where  the  moisture  of  the 
winter  rains  was  longest  retained.  On  most  of  these  trees  the 
mistletoe  had  fastened  itself,  and  in  spite  of  our  knowledge  of 
its  parasitical  character  we  could  not  deny  that  the  white  berries 
give  an  additional  touch  of  beauty  to  the  green  of  the  trees. 

The  birds,  attracted  perhaps  by  their  beauty  as  well  as  their 
flavor,  feed  readily  upon  them.  It  is  to  these  berries,  too,  that 
we  must  look  for  the  solution  of  the  water  problem  for  the 
birds.  Birds  are  often  found  in  large  numbers  where  there  is 
no  apparent  water  supply.  Yet  it 
is  well  known  that  birds  must  have 
water  as  well  as  men.  How,  then, 
are  they  provided  ?  It  is  suggested 
that  they  fly  to  water  and  then  re- 
turn to  these  isolated  and  waterless 
places. 

An  objection  to  this  suggestion  is 
found  in  the  fact  that  they  breed  and 
rear  their  young  in  these  places,  and 
while  this  flying  to  and  fro  might  be  possible  to  them  it  would 
not  be  to  their  young  during  the  first  weeks  of  their  existence. 
How,  then,  is  the  problem  solved  ?  It  is  solved  by  the  mistletoe. 
The  berries  are  a  large  part  water  and  they  thus  become  the 
water  supply  of  scores  of  desert  birds. 

It  is  to  the  birds  also  that  this  parasite  owes  its  large  distribu- 
tion. The  seeds  are  evidently  indigestible,  for  when  they  are 
voided  after  the  processes  of  digestion  they  are  still  intact  in  the 
defecation.  These  seed-charged  droppings  lodge  on  the  branches 
and  in  the  crotches  of  the  trees  and  in  due  time  spring  forth, 
striking  their  roots  into  the  tree  fibers  and  thus  becoming  part 
and  parcel  of  the  tree. 

The  e\f-aw\(Micropallas  luhitneyi),  the  smallest  owl  in  the  world, 
is  a  desert  denizen.  It  is  seldom  more  than  five  and  a  half  inches 
high.  It  feeds  on  insects  and  small  snakes.  Alighting  on  the 
back  of  its  prey  it  darts  its  sharp  claws  into  it,  speedily  killing  it. 


Eagle 
eating  bird 


160 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


The  Courier  del  Camino,  or  road-runner  (Geococcyx  calif ornia- 
nus),  is  often  seen  on  the  desert.  It  receives  its  Spanish  name 
from  the  fact  that  it  is  generally  seen  on  the  road  and  when 
followed  runs  ahead  with  great  fleetness,  until,  either  tired  of 
the  game  or  afraid  of  being  caught,  it  darts  into  the  nearest 
bush  for  hiding.  A  Methodist  minister  of  my  ac- 
quaintance used  to  keep  a  fast  horse  and  sulky,  and 
drove  over  the  same  road  every  day  for  months, 
where  several  road-runners  congregated.  One  of 
the  birds  seemed  to  wait  regularly  for  his  morning 
run.  He  came  out  of  the  bush  at  a  certain  place 
where  there  was  a  long  stretch  of  road,  and  with  a 
flirt  of  his  expressive  tail  and  an  uplifting  of  his 
crest,  would  start  off  at  full  speed  down  the 
middle  of  the  road.  My  friend  then  "let  his  mare  go,"  and  for 
half  a  mile  or  so  the  race  was  on.  The  road-runner  could  always 
keep  ahead,  but  as  soon  as  he  was  through  he  darted  into  the 
brush,  to  be  ready,  however,  for  the  same  race  the  next  day. 

Owing  to  its  pheasant-like  appearance 
it  is  often  called  the  "chaparral  cock." 
Of  all  the  desert  birds  this  is  the  one  that 
most  appeals  to  me.  While  it  is  not  rare, 
it  is  better  seen  in  the  out-of- 
the-way  places,  and  though  ap- 
parently exceedingly  shy  it  soon 
becomes  very  tame  and  friendly 
when  it  finds  that  its  confidence 
is  not  misplaced.  On  one  of  the 
ranches  near  Mecca  a  pair  have 
their  nest.  Each  morning  one 
of  them  flies  to  an  old  stump 
and  there  coos  somewhat  like  a 
dove.  They  come  to  the  door 
for  scraps  and  will  almost  take  them  from  the  fingers.  When 
the  land  was  being  leveled  scorpions  and  various  other  insects 
were  being  constantly  turned  up.  The  road-runners  would  fol- 
low in  the  wake  of  the  scraper,  and  not  unseldom,  if  they 
caught  sight  of  anything  in  the  scraper,  would   fly  right  down 


Road-runner 


f- 


ggSffia 


Some  Desert  Birds  16 1 

and  get  it.  One  day  a  snake  was  killed  and  my  friend's  man 
picked  it  up  on  a  stick  and  stood  looking  at  it  when  a  road- 
runner  came  and,  taking  it  from  the  stick,  ran  with  it  to  his 
mate  and  made  a  meal  on  it. 

I  have  watched  a  road-runner  when  he  thought  himself  unseen 
in  the  chicken  yard  of  an  absent  Mexican.  With  lordly  step 
and  haughty  demeanor  he  marched  around  among  the  hens  and 
chickens,  as  if  he  were  a  true  Spanish  don  in  the  presence  of 
his  inferiors.  When  the  cackle  of  a  hen  denoted  an  addition 
to  the  egg  supply,  he  strode  toward  the  nest  and  coolly  and 
deliberately  pecked  a  hole  in  the  new-laid  egg  and  in  a  few 
moments  had  entirely  swallowed  it. 

The  preacher  to  whom  I  have  referred  once  invaded  a  cactus 
patch  where    road-runners  had  their  nest,   and  took  therefrom 
two  young  birds.     He  turned 
them  loose  in  his  house,  feed- 
ing  them  with   scraps   from       Road-runner 
the  table.   They  soon  became 

so  thoroughly  at   home   that  ---'  '  'W^ffiim 

they  would    run    up    to   the    ^^^^^smi^ 
minister    and    beg  for  food,  namw* 

just  as  will  a  dog.  So  fear- 
less were  they  that  in  walking  about  he  had  to  put  his  toe  under 
them  to  throw  them  out  of  his  way.  He  found  them  the  most 
easily  domesticated  of  any  wild  bird  he  had  ever  caught,  and 
always  speaks  highly  of  the  way  they  kept  his  tomato  vines  free 
from  caterpillars,  and  his  "garden  truck"  from  insects  and  other 
pests. 

Mr.  George  W.  Glover,  Jr.,  the  editor  of  the  South  Pasadenan, 
writes  his  editorials  under  the  name  "Roadrunner,"  and  he 
publishes  in  Pasadena  another  weekly  paper  which  he  calls 
solely  by  his  editorial  name  —  The  Roadrunner.  Mr.  Glover  is 
also  interested  in  mines  on  the  desert  and  occasionally  leaves  the 
editorial  chair  for  a  pasear  on  the  desert.  He  writes  me  about 
the  road-runner  as  follows:  "Wild,  alert,  always  on  the  lookout 
for  danger,  suspicious  to  an  inordinate  degree,  he  is  yet  wise 
enough  to  know  his  friends.  Go  into  camp  where  I  will  on  the 
desert,  if  I  remain  but  one  night  I  see  little  of  him.     If  I  remain 

Vol.  I. -11 


162  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

a  week,  before  I  break  up  camp  I  find  it  necessary  to  kick  him 
from  under  my  feet.  At  first  he  will  come  around  the  camp  at 
a  distance  of  several  hundred  yards,  evidently  sizing  up  the 
situation  and  seeking  to  know  who  his  new  neighbors  are.  When 
he  finds  that  they  are  not  aggressive  he  approaches  nearer. 
Throw  him  out  a  few  crumbs  and  he  will  run  away,  but  he  in- 
variably comes  back  for  them.  After  this  he  ventures  nearer, 
and  if  you  talk  to  him  as  you  would  to  a  human  being  you  soon 
win  his  confidence.  Once  I  camped  at  a  spot  for  a  week  and 
had  this  experience  with  a  pair  of  these  birds,  so  that  the  last 
two  days  they  were  fairly  familiar.  They  had  been  much  inter- 
ested in  the  small  camp-fire,  and  whenever  the  cooking  of  meals 
began  they  were  on  hand.  As  I  sat  upon  a  rock  holding  the 
frying-pan  in  my  hands  they  ran  up  to  within  a  few  feet,  much 
interested  in  what  was  going  on.     When  I  left  that  camp  those 

birds  followed  me  for  fully 

Road-runner  i«p^  three     miles,     sometimes 

sunning.  _^_    f-*%^==*  ,         ,     .         ,  .  , 

ahead  or,  and  sometimes  be- 


hind my  wagon,  but  keep- 
ing me  in  their  company." 

One  of  the  most  tenderly 
cherished  illusions  of  Cali- 
fornia is  that  the  road-runner  is  the  deadly  foe  of  the  rattlesnake, 
and  will  fence  the  reptile  in  with  a  hedge  of  prickly  cactus,  and 
begin  to  tease  it.  When  the  angry  reptile  strikes,  the  road- 
runner  so  arranges  the  thorns  that  he  leads  the  snake  to  dart 
at  the  prickles,  and  this  so  mortifies  and  humiliates  it  that  it  then 
strikes  its  fangs  deep  into  its  own  flesh  and  dies. 

One  of  California's  most  reliable  authorities,  T.  S.  Van  Dyke, 
flouts  this  story  as  an  altogether  unreliable  yarn. 

While  I  have  never  seen  it  done,  I  have  talked  with  desert  men 
who  assure  me  that  they  have,  and  until  I  know  the  road-runner 
better  I  cannot  condemn  the  story  as  emphatically  as  does  Mr. 
Van  Dyke.  One  prospector  with  calm  protestation  of  truth  tells 
me  that  many  times  when  he  has  been  riding  or  walking  along  he 
has  watched  the  road-runner  swiftly  moving  at  a  distance.  Sud- 
denly he  stops,  looking  sharply  and  steadily  at  a  certain  spot, 
while  his  tail  bobs  up  and  down,  this  side  and  that,  corresponding 


Some  Desert  Birds 


103 


Blue 
heron 


somewhat  to  the  excited  and  agitated  movements  of  his  head, 
while  his  crest  rises  until  it  stands  like  the  feather  cap  of  an  Indian 
war-chief.  He  has  caught  sight  of  his  arch-enemy,  the  rattle- 
snake, sunning  himself,  and  —  sound  asleep.  With  a  rapidity 
as  wonderful  as  it  is  stealthy,  the  road-runner  dashes  off  and 
shortly  returns  with  a  bunch  of  the  cholla  cactus  dangling  from 
his  bill.  Gently  he  lays  it  down  conveniently  near  to  the  sleeping 
snake.  Then  he  goes  and  comes,  each  time  returning  with  his 
bunch  of  chollas,  which  he  lays  alongside  that  which  he  has  brought 
before,  until  at  last  a  complete  hedge  is  formed  around  the  uncon- 
scious snake.  When  he  awakens  he  finds  himself  a  prisoner. 
In  vain  he  tries  to  escape.  The  sharp  needles  of  the  cactus  prick 
him  too  severely.  Angry,  wounded,  and  defeated 
he  retreats  in  sullen  anger,  only  to  be  irritated 
by  the  raised  crest,  fluffed-out  feathers 
and  sharp  bill  of  the  road-runner.  He 
darts  his  vicious  head  forward  only  to 
strike  the  wounding  cactus,  and  when 
at  length  he  is  wearied  with  the  long 
conflict  his  feathered  foe  begins  a  vig- 
orous attack.  Striking  here  and  there 
with  his  long,  strong  bill  he  soon  kills 
the  snake,  and  then,  at  his  leisure,  pro- 
ceeds to  eat  him. 

It  is  a  good  story  whether  true  or  not,  and  some  day  I  intend 
to  find  out  the  truth  or  falsity,  though,  as  I  have  stated  elsewhere 
in  relation  to  the  horned  toad,  I  have  been  unable  in  many  years  to 
make  this  interesting  little  creature  do  what  a  score  of  scientific 
observers  assure  me  he  often  does.  As  yet  I  am  not  prepared  to 
deny  in  toto  the  ability  of  the  road-runner  to  do  what  so  many 
affirm  he  does  do. 

As  to  its  eating  snakes,  that  I  can  fully  confirm.  I  have  seen 
it  kill  snakes,  even  the  sidewinder,  though  Mr.  Van  Dyke 
suggests  that  this  must  be  when  the  reptile  is  sluggish  on  a  cold 
morning. 

Three  things  arrest  one's  attention  the  first  time  he  sees  a  road- 
runner.  These  are  the  size  and  flexibility  of  the  tail,  the  curved 
end  of  the  bill,  and  the  erectile  crest,  and  a  fourth  may  be  added 


164         The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

if  one  gets  near  enough  to  the  bird  to  examine  it  closely,  viz.,  its 
wonderful  color.  The  feathers  on  the  upper  parts  and  wings  are 
of  a  dull  metallic  olivaceous  green,  broadly  edged  with  white  near 
the  end.  There  is  a  tinge  of  black  in  the  green  along  this  line 
of  white,  which  itself  is  suffused  with  brown.  The  play  of  light 
on  these  feathers  is  exquisite,  and  the  erectile  movement  of  the 
crest  is  interesting  in  the  extreme.  Some  of  the  crest  feathers  are 
a  dark  blackish  blue.  The  tail  movements  are  remarkable.  I 
verily  believe  that  if  one  were  long  familiar  with  the  road-runner 
he  might  understand  its  thoughts  purely  by  the  motions  of  the 
tail.  It  reflects  every  mood  of  the  bird.  Like  a  Japanese  con- 
jurer with  a  fan,  the  road-runner  can  play  upon  your  emotions 
and  imagination  with  his  tail  until  you  come  to  think  it  gifted 
with  almost  super-ornithological  power. 


7^ 


In  size  the  bird  is  from  twenty  to  twenty-three  inches  long,  of 
which  twelve  or  thirteen  inches  belong  to  the  tail.  Its  eyes  are 
very  large  and  dark  gray  in  color,  with  a  dark  blue  iris. 

The  young  generally  leave  the  nest  in  early  or  mid-April,  and 
it  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  the  teamsters  to  the  mines  to  run 
them  down  about  that  time.  Even  at  so  young  an  age  they  run 
with  fair  speed,  but  are  easily  tired,  and  then,  seeking  the  shelter 
of  a  bush  to  hide,  are  easily  caught.  The  eye  of  the  road- 
runner  is  surrounded  by  a  naked  spot,  which  above  it  in  front  is 
a  deep  Prussian  blue,  under  the  eye  it  shades  down  to  a  lighter 
blue  and  nearly  white,  while  behind  the  eye  it  is  orange. 

Thousands  of  a  small  bird  that  flies  and  skims  the  surface  like 
a  swallow  are  to  be  found  in  flocks  at  the  south  end  of  the  Salton 
Sea.  One  morning  I  watched  four  different  flocks  of  them. 
They  flew  to  and  fro,  as  close  to  the  ground  as  possible,  occasion- 
ally resting  on  the  white  salty  soil.  When  they  did  so  the  birds  at 
one  end  would  fly,  in  sequential  order,  over  the  others  and  alight 
at  the  other  end  of  the  flock.     As  they  kept  this  up  for  several 


Some  Desert  Birds 


165 


minutes  I  wondered  whether  it  was  a  definite  plan  taught  them  by 
centuries  of  experience,  for  the  picking  up  of  the  myriads  of  gnats 
that  we  found  covering  our  bedding  when  we  awoke.  The  vast 
quantities  of  these  gnats  can  scarcely  be  believed,  yet  so  large 
was  their  number  where  we  cached  our  boat  effects  and  supplies 
in  the  volcanic  rocks  at  the  southwest  of  the  Salton,  that  as  we 
walked  along  and  they  arose  from  the  ground  they  made  a  noise 
that  resembled  the  roaring  of  the  sea,  or  the  rushing  along  of  a 
train,  when  heard  at  a  distance. 

In  the  chapter  on   the   trip   down  the  Alamo 
River  I   have  told   of  the   vast    numbers  of 
pelicans,  herons,  gulls,   ducks,  geese,  etc., 
that  there  abound.     A  number  of  hawks 
and  eagles  were  also  seen.     There  are 
many  of  the  latter  in  the  northern  part 
of  the  desert,  all  doubtless  having  their 
eyries  in  the  summits  of  the  near-by 
mountains  of  San  Bernardino  and  San 
Jacinto.      The  eagle  is  well   enough 
known   to   require   no   description    at 
my  hands,  but  there  is  a  sublimity  in 
the  flight  of  an  eagle  on  the  desert  that 

is  not  felt  in  any  other  place.  For,  as  the  great  bird  arises,  wing- 
ing its  fearless  way  directly  into  the  eye  of  the  sun,  there  is 
nothing  to  distract  the  attention  from  its  heavenward  flight. 
Here  there  is  a  sea  of  yellow  nothingness  below,  and  a  sea  of 
exquisite  bluish-green  space  above  in  which  this  simple  object 
of  blackness  floats  and  soars  as  though  it  sought  entrance  to  the 
very  palace  of  God. 

The  largest  of  all  North  American  birds  is  sometimes  found 
on  the  mountains  of  the  western  edge  of  the  Colorado  Desert. 
This  is  the  giant  condor  (S arcorampus  californianus),  and  long 
supposed  not  to  exist  in  California.  As  far  as  I  can  learn,  it  seems 
to  be  the  link  that  binds  the  carrion-eating  vulture  to  the  live- 
flesh-eating  eagle.  As  is  well  known,  the  eagle  always  prefers 
to  kill  its  own  food.  The  condor,  on  the  other  hand,  though 
able  to  kill,  prefers  to  find  its  meat  fresh  and  sweet,  but  already 


Brown 
eaelc 


166  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

slain,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  vulture  is  better  satisfied  with 
carrion  than  sweet  meat. 

In  ascending,  the  condor  has  a  spiral-like  flight,  though  it 
sometimes  gorges  itself  to  such  an  extent  that  it  cannot  fly.  Rais- 
ing its  wings  it  runs  in  a  ludicrous  manner,  but  cannot  rise,  and 
finally,  with  an  air  of  resignation,  it  hops  to  the  nearest  rock  or 
fence-post,  and  there  remains  until  the  effect  of  its  feast  has  dis- 
appeared. 

In  appearance  the  condor  is  not  unlike  the  vulture,  though  its 
feathers  are  of  a  uniform  brown-black  color.  The  head,  down  to 
the  root  of  the  beak,  is  covered  with  a  beautiful  lemon-colored 
loose  skin,  which  sometimes  deepens  almost  to  orange.  The  beak 
is  horny  white,  and  curves  over  the  lower  bill,  with  a  point  as  hard 
as  iron.  The  under  mandible  is  a  perfect  half-cylinder,  into 
which  fits  with  perfect  accuracy  a  hollow  tongue  serrated  with  a 
hardened  edging  inclining  down  the  gullet.  The  roof  of  the 
mouth  has  hard  spinous  points  inclining  in  the  opposite  direction, 
and  by  forcing  the  meat  it  is  eating  against  these  spines  it  is  torn 
and  shredded  in  the  process  of  deglutition. 

When  erect,  the  bird  stands  fully  four  feet  in  height,  and  is  a 
most  imposing  creature,  appearing  at  a  distance  perfectly  black. 
In  flight,  however,  it  is  more  than  imposing.  It  floats  without 
the  slightest  effort,  and  is  the  most  graceful  of  all  objects  that 
navigates  the  air.  From  the  summit  of  the  high  mountains, 
where  the  air  is  light  and  thin  and  one  can  clearly  see  objects  at 
a  great  distance,  I  have  watched  this  wonderful  bird  with  a  pair 
of  glasses  for  over  four  hours,  without  discerning  the  slightest 
motion  of  the  wings,  sailing  to  and  fro  at  times  with  the  merest 
"cant"  of  the  body,  and  then  remaining  motionless.  The  wings 
are  "flapped"  when  they  begin  to  rise  from  the  ground,  but  when 
fairly  aloft,  save  ingoing  along  in  direct  flight,  no  such  motion  is 
necessary.  As  they  rise  a  white  band  is  revealed  on  the  under- 
side of  both  wings,  but  this  does  not  extend  across  the  body. 
An  ordinary  sized  male  will  weigh  twenty  pounds,  and  its  breast 
bone  is  eight  inches  across.  It  has  two  gizzards,  the  upper  one 
small  as  a  chicken's  and  the  lower  one  four  times  as  large.  The 
inside  of  the  large  gizzard  is  lined  as  with  coarse  sandpaper. 

There  is  a  penalty  attached  to  killing  the  condor,  but  as  re- 


Some  Desert  Birds  167 

cently  as  August,  1906,  a  band  of  four  hunters,  short  of  food,  went 
out  and  killed  a  deer,  which  they  bled  and  cut  into  quarters, 
putting  it  in  the  shade  and  covering  it  with  their  coats.  A  few 
hours  later,  when  they  returned,  they  found  a  giant  condor  on  the 
meat,  and  he  arose  bearing  a  quarter  of  the  venison  in  his  talons. 
The  four  of  them  leveled  their  guns  and  shot  simultaneously, 
and  the  condor  fell  with  a  broken  wing.  Though  wounded,  he 
put  up  a  gallant  fight,  striking  with  his  good  wing  and  jumping 
directly  toward  his  enemies.  It  was  not  until  they  had  emptied 
their  revolvers  into  him  that  he  was  killed.  They  report  that  he 
measured  the  enormous  size  of  eleven  feet  seven  inches  from  tip 
to  tip  of  his  wings,  and  this  can  readily  be  believed  as  they  showed 
photographs  of  the  wings  alone  that  are  over  five  feet  long. 

A  few  days  following  that  on  which  the  account  of  the  killing 
of  the  condor  appeared,  the  secretary  of  the  California  Audubon 
Society  announced  that,  as  the  law  of  the  state  protects  the  bird, 
and  makes  it  a  misdemeanor  to  have  possession  of  even  a  part  of 
one,  he  should  institute  suit  against  the  men  who  did  the  slaying 
of  this  rare  bird.  It  is  to  be  hoped  the  suit  will  be  successful,  as 
there  seems  to  be  no  other  way  of  putting  a  stop  to  the  needless 
killing  of  birds  and  animals  by  those  who,  having  a  gun,  feel  they 
must  shoot  and  kill  some  living  thing,  no  matter  how  useful  or 
harmless. 


-*    *m***k&Lf. 


A  quiet  and  cool  retreat  in  Andreas  Canyon 


168 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert 


169 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert 


EPTILIAN   life  on  the   desert   is  peculiarly  abundant 
and  interesting.    The  various  forms  of  rattlesnake,  the 
large  family  of  lizards,  the  chuckwalla,  the  Gila  mon- 
ster, the  desert  tortoise,  are   all   of   singular  interest 
to  me. 

To  those  who  are  able  to  put  aside  their  fears 
and  inherited  prejudices  there  is  wonderful  fasci- 
nation in  the  beauty,  and  the  grace  of  movement 
of  the  rattlesnake.  The  delicate  colors  and  the  exquisite  way 
in  which  nature  tints  the  diamonds  —  the  soft  grays  and 
olives  and  browns  and  salmon  reds  —  cannot 
help  but  appeal  to 
all  true  lovers  of 
color  harmony.  And 
the  erace   of  move- 


A  desert 
rattlesnake 


ment,  the  easy,  noise-     ^^J^pljpl^ 


less,    undulating  ^SglO^: 

elegance  of  motion 

are  unsurpassed  by  anything  save  an  eagle  in  its  soaring. 

The  diamond-backed  rattlesnake  {Crotalus  ruber,  Cope)  is 
common  on  the  desert.  Friends  of  mine  have  caught  several 
near  Mecca.  Of  two  specimens  before  me  as  I  now  write,  one 
is  a  rich  reddish  cinnamon,  variegated  in  exquisite  shades. 
Down  the  center  of  the  back  from  head  to  within  two  inches  of 
its  rattle  is  a  row  of  diamonds,  irregular  enough  to  give  one  the 
sense  of  real  life  as  opposed  to  something  made  with  the  uni- 
form and  monotonous  regularity  of  a  machine.  The  diamond  is 
composed  of  a  dark  blotch,  edged  around  with  markings  that  are 
nearly  black,  and  separated  from  each  other  by  other  edges  of 
light   cinnamon.     The    diamonds    are    more    distinct    and    clear 


170  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

from  the  head  of  the  reptile  to  about  three-fourths  of  its  length, 
where  they  begin  to  shade  off  and  become  less  emphatic.  The 
gastrosteges,  or  belly  scales,  are  almost  white. 

The  wife  of  one  of  Chicago's  distinguished  clergymen  so  fully 
appreciates  the  beauty  of  the  diamond  rattlesnake  that  she  is 
able  to  cast  aside  all  feminine  antipathy  to  the  reptile  and  use 
its  beautiful  skin  as  an  adornment  for  insertion  in  a  dress  waist. 

The  other  rattler  has  a  skin  of  grayish  brown,  a  little  less  at- 
tractive in  color  than  the  former  one,  but  equally  beautiful  in 
form  and  general  effect.  Its  length  is  four  feet  one  inch.  It 
has  thirty-one  diamonds  from  head  to  rattle. 

The  Moravian  missionary  at  Martinez  has  had  several  ex- 
periences with  rattlesnakes.  They  are  nothing  out  of  the  com- 
mon, and  they  serve  to  illustrate  the  possibilities  in  several  years 
of  desert  experience.  He  was  driving  along  one  evening  just  at 
dusk,  when  his  horse  stopped  and  refused  to  go  farther.  The 
road  was  in  the  village  and  fenced  in,  therefore  he  could  not 
make  a  detour,  so,  jumping  out  of  the  buggy,  the  minister  ran 
ahead  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  Suspecting  the  cause  he 
went  cautiously  and  there  found  a  long  big  rattlesnake  stretched 
across  the  road.  To  kill  it  was  the  work  of  a  minute,  and, 
after  beheading  it  to  make  sure,  he  returned  to  his  buggy  and 
drove  on. 

On  another  occasion,  one  afternoon  in  the  summer  of  1905, 
he  had  left  his  buggy  in  the  yard.  After  supper  he  went  out  to 
put  it  into  the  shed.  I  should  here  explain  that  my  friend  is 
quite  deaf  and  would  be  unable  to  hear  a  rattlesnake  unless  he 
were  very  attentive  and  quite  close.  As  he  picked  up  the  shafts 
and  started  off,  his  wife,  who  by  mere  accident  came  out  after 
him,  heard  a  rattlesnake.  Though  she  called  out  he  paid  no 
attention,  went  on,  put  away  the  buggy  and  returned.  Next 
morning,  hearing  his  dog  barking  at  some  object  on  the  lawn, 
he  went  out  and  found  the  snake,  wounded,  and  barely  able  to 
move.  He  had  either  trodden  upon  it  or  the  buggy  had  gone 
over  it,  and  thus  injured  it.  He  killed  it  and  measuring  it  found 
it  four  feet  and  three  inches  in  length. 

About  two  years  ago  he  was  going  out  to  picket  his  horse 
behind  the  barn,  when,  suddenly,  he  came  upon  a  rattler,  coiled 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  171 

up,  watching  at  a  gopher's  hole.     He  was  walking  quickly  and 

being  unable  to  stop  stepped  right  over  the  snake.     As  soon  as 

the  horse  was  attended  to,  he  returned  to  the  spot  and  found 

the  snake  still  there,  undisturbed  by  his  passing  over  it.     To 

get  a  hoe  and  kill  it  did  not  take  long.     The  snake  was  so  intent 

in  watching  for  his  supper,  —  waiting  for  the  coming  out  of  the 

gopher,  —  that  the   movement  of  the   man   had   not  frightened 

him  or  driven  him  away. 

The  first  year  of  his  ministry  to  the  Indians  his  wife  utilized 

a  box  placed  on  end  with  shelves  inside  it  for  a  kitchen  cupboard. 

One  day  she  dropped  a  knife  behind  the  box,  and  after  failing 

to  reach  it,  asked  her  husband  to  do  so.     He  removed  the  box 

and  there,  as  well  as  the  knife,  he  found  a  rattlesnake  coiled 

but  apparently  not  angry,  for  it  neither 

rattled  nor  made  any  hostile  movement.  *^  Tiger 

Of  course  it  was  speedily  killed.  *glfe^kv  L" 

.  JSin         snake 

I    have   killed   many  diamond-backed 

rattlesnakes  on  the  desert.  In  March, 
1906,  as  my  companion  and  I  passed 
through  the  Hayfields,  in  Crawford  Val- 
ley (a  place  where,  some  years,  gallena 
grass  grows  in  great  quantity),  a  large 
rattlesnake    called    our   attention   to   his 

presence  on  the  right-hand  side  of  the  road.  There  was  not  a 
stone  in  sight,  and  the  only  stick  at  hand  was  the  stock  of  our 
rude  riding-whip.  Making  a  weapon  of  the  handle,  I  struck 
the  snake  on  the  head,  stunned  him,  and  then  cut  off  his  head. 
My  companion,  who  had  had  no  experience  with  snakes,  was 
horrified  at  the  muscular  contractions  of  the  headless  creature 
and  was  really  afraid  for  me  when,  with  startling  force,  the  head- 
less reptile  made  what  seemed  to  be  a  vicious  and  well-aimed 
strike  at  me.  I  skinned  the  body,  and,  though  skinless,  tailless, 
and  headless,  the  body  was  still  writhing  and  occasionally  making 
the  quick  muscular  dart  forward  of  its  strike  when  we  left  it. 

The  flesh  was  white  and  clean  and  easily  gives  color  to  the 
statement  made  by  many  people  that  they  have  eaten  the  flesh 
of  a  rattlesnake.  They  say  it  is  tender  and  sweet  and  far  prefer- 
able to  chicken.     That  may  be  so,  —  there  is  no  accounting  for 


172  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

taste.     Personally   I    prefer   chicken,    especially   if  it    is    of  the 
yellow-legged  variety. 

When  measured  this  snake  was  found  to  be  four  feet  six 
inches  long.  His  color  was  a  variegated  brown  of  a  beauty 
impossible  to  describe.  I  never  see  the  beauty  of  a  dangerous 
reptile  such  as  a  rattlesnake,  a  Gila  monster,  a  cobra,  but  I  am 
led  to  the  reflection,  "Why  waste  so  much  beauty  on  a  creature 
so  repulsive  to  the  major  portion  of  mankind  ?"  Possibly  man  was 
not  considered  in  the  distribution  of  beauty  among  the  objects 
of  nature.  He  himself  is  one  of  the  objects,  instead  of  being  an 
outsider,  a  superior  creation. 

This  rattler  had  thirty-five  diamonds  on  his  back  of  a  peculiar, 
irregular,  dark  brown,  with  the  diamonds  in  a  deeper  color, 
lined  or  edged  with  scales  tipped  with  creamy  brown.  In  some 
cases  this  edging  is  very  indistinct,  indeed  almost  absent  on  the 
head   end  of  the  diamonds,  but  very  clear  on  the  tail  end.     At 

the  tail  there  is  a  half- 
circle  of  ashy 
color  with  four 
alternate  quar- 

.    ^7>,jr  ter-circles,  then 
A  traveling  ^mcigigBp  n&8s^1/ 

rattlesnake        ^^^r  ^^^^  one  more  half- 

circle   and    the 
rattles,  of  which  nine  were  still  on  when  the  skin  was  dressed. 

Some  six  or  seven  years  ago  a  rattler  of  this  same  species 
was  found  in  this  same  locality  —  the  Hayfields  —  which  meas- 
ured over  six  feet  in  length,  and  over  a  foot  in  circumference 
at  the  thickest  part  of  his  body.  The  specimen  I  killed  must 
have  been  a  relative,  for  I  have  seldom  seen  a  snake  of  this 
kind  with  so  thick  a  body. 

The  horned  rattlesnake,  or  sidewinder,  as  it  is  commonl} 
called  (Crotalus  cerastes,  Hallowell),  is  well  known  on  the  desert. 
I  have  found  it  north,  south,  east,  and  west.  At  Palm  Springs 
I  came  upon  a  family  of  five  at  one  time.  They  all  came  to  an 
inglorious  end  under  a  huge  rock.  In  the  Eagle  Mountain  valley 
I  killed  one,  and  later  my  companion  also  killed  one.  A  few 
days  later  I  ran  upon  one  in  the  dry  wash  coming  down  between 
the  Chocolate  and  Chuckwalla  ranges.     The  latter  escaped  into 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  173 

a  dense  pile  of  washed-down  brush,  but  I  set  fire  to  it  and  hope 
he  was  burned.  For  of  all  the  rattlesnake  family  I  find  this  is 
the  most  dreaded.  I  suppose  it  is  because  it  is  quicker  in  its 
movements  and  its  side  motion  makes  it  more  uncertain  where 
and  how  it  will  strike. 

It  is  much  smaller  than  the  ordinary  rattler  and  is  peculiar 
because  of  the  horns  which  rise  over  each  eye.  These  horns  are 
the  superocular  scales  which  assume  this  shape.  It  is  more 
marked,  however,  because  of  its  strange  side-winding  motion. 
Instead  of  the  straightforward  progression  of  the  ordinary 
snake  it  makes  a  strange  twist  to  the  right,  and  thus  moves 
forward  sideways,  making  a  track  upon  the  sand  almost  the 
shape  of  the  letter  S.  At  the  head  and  tail  of  the  letter  a  deeper 
depression  is  made,  clearly  showing  that  the  snake  rests  first 
its  head,  then  its  tail  in  these  depressions,  giving  its  whole  body 
a  lift  forward  as  it  does  so.  Though  it  will  fight  if  compelled,  it 
is  less  aggressive  than  the  ordinary  rattler,  and  will  always  escape 
if  it  possibly  can.  It  lives  upon  the  rats,  mice,  chipmunks,  and 
lizards  of  the  region. 

At  the  end  of  April  I  have  often  found  them  in  pairs,  and  it 
is  probable  that  this  is  the  mating  season,  though  I  am  not  able 
to  determine  their  sex.  I  do  know,  however,  that  they  follow 
each  other  as  most  mating  creatures  do,  and  are  so  interested 
and  preoccupied  as  to  forget  to  retire  to  their  usual  holes  or  shel- 
ter during  the  night.  The  result  is  we  have  often  found  and 
killed  them  in  the  cold  mornings  when  they  were  too  chilled  to 
be  able  to  move. 

All  the  sidewinders  I  have  seen  have  had  a  peculiarly  beauti- 
ful color,  which  reminds  me  somewhat  of  a  bright  new  rug  of 
soft  colors  and  shades.  The  one  I  have  before  me  now  as  'I 
write  has  a  body  of  pleasing  gray,  with  a  series  of  spots  down 
the  back  of  a  very  much  toned-down  salmon-red,  and  a  corre- 
sponding series  on  each  side,  near  to  the  belly,  of  almost  black 
spots.  Over  the  whole  body  are  scattered  minute  grayish  spots 
as  if  it  had  been  sprinkled  with  an  air-brush. 

For  years  it  has  been  a  common  delusion  that  a  rattlesnake 
could  not  strike  unless  coiled.  This  is  utter  nonsense.  A 
rattler  can  bite  when  at  full  length,  when  moving,  or,  as  I  once 


174  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

found  to  my  pain  and  narrow  escape  from  death,  when  held 
securely  in  one's  hands.  When  coiled  he  has  the  power  of  spring- 
ing to  more  than  half  his  own  length,  and  his  speed  and  accuracy 
of  aim  make  him  much  to  be  dreaded  at  such  times,  though  his 
aim  is  not  always  certain.  When  uncoiled  he  can  also  spring 
half  his  length,  and  has  the  wicked  art  of  swinging  in  a  semi- 
circle when  one  least  expects  him.  Even  with  his  back  broken 
he  can  strike,  and  when  apparently  dead  should  be  approached 
with  caution.  I  have  known  dangerous  wounds  inflicted  by  a 
"dead"  snake,  when  an  attempt  was  made  to  cut  off  his  rattles. 
The  muscular  contraction  caused  by  the  incision  of  the  knife  made 
the  apparently  dead  reptile  swing  around  and  give  a  bad  blow 
and  bite,  for,  as  a  rule,  it  should  be  remembered  that  the  snake's 
action  is  not  a  "bite,"  pure  and  simple,  but  is  a  combination  of 
blow  and  bite  so  rapidly  delivered  that  it  is  difficult,  if  not  impos- 
sible, for  the  unaided  eye  to  follow 
-jflffi^fc^ffijlfc),  the  various  movements  composing 

^llll§0$w  %  /wMk        't-     With  a  rattlesnake  held  in  my 

/MJ  ^jS^x  hand,  and  watching  every  move- 

l^^k  wmk  ment  with  keen  and  trained  eyes, 

^*^||f|\  ^|\         I  found  it  impossible  to  recognize 

iPt^  J^r^w  tne  Processes-     And  yet  the  snake 

Sidewinder      \M^0$%fZ£^  u\.  n  i      *      j 

^j^W*^  can  bite,  as  we  usually  understand 

the  word.  I  have  seen  it  force  its 
fangs  through  a  half-inch  of  flesh  with  no  other  motion  than  the 
bringing  together  of  its  jaws.  Such  a  bite  is  possibly  more  dan- 
gerous, too,  than  the  ordinary  strike,  for  in  a  deliberate  bite  the 
fangs  penetrate  and  the  poison  is  injected  more  deeply  than  in  a 
sudden  blow. 

Another  popular  delusion  is  that  the  forked  tongue  of  the 
snake  is  its  dangerous  "sting."  The  tongue  of  a  rattlesnake  is  as 
harmless  as  that  of  a  dog.  Why  the  snake  darts  it  back  and 
forth,  and  why  it  is  forked,  and  why  it  looks  so  wicked  and  vicious 
at  such  times  I  do  not  know.  The  fixed,  steady  glare  of  the  eyes 
has  a  hypnotizing  effect  upon  most  people,  and  adds  to  that  sense 
of  conscious  wickedness  most  people  believe  inheres  to  the  rattle- 
snake. 

Still  a  worse  and  more  dangerous  delusion  is  that  whisky  is 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  175 


the  best  "antidote"  for  snake  poison.  The  following  of  this  de- 
lusion has  slain  far  more  snake-bitten  people  than  have  been 
poisoned.  Let  it  be  clearly  understood  that  whisky,  save  in  doses 
of  a  teaspoonful  every  half-hour,  is  a  most  dangerous  "remedy" 
for  snake-bite.  It  kills  many  a  person  who  would  have  recovered 
if  nothing  had  been  done.  Leonard  Stejneger,  the  government 
expert  upon  this  subject,  emphatically  says:  "It  cannot  be  em- 
phasized too  much,  or  too  often,  that  intoxication"  (alcoholic), 
"so  far  from  helping  the  cure,  helps  the  poison,  and  that  persons 
having  been  made  intoxicated  beyond  excitement,  when  under 
treatment  for  snake-bite,  and  yet  recovered,  have  so  recovered  not 
from  the  treatment  but  in  spite  of  it.  It  should  also  be  remem- 
bered that  the  alcohol  has  no  beneficent  direct  action  upon  the 
venom;  on  the  contrary,  applied  locally  or  intravenously,  it  seems 
to  add  to  the  virulence  of  the  poison." 

It  will  doubtless   prove  in-  .  A  °Pen  m01lth  °f 

,  ..       ■-        rra&VLVi  sidewinder 

teresting  to  the  generality  or 

readers  to  know  accurately  the 
"  how  "  of  the  rattlesnake's 
venomous  bite.  The  fangs 
are  hinged  to  the  upper  jaw, 
and  are  covered  with  a  sheath, 
somewhat  after  the  fashion  of  a  cat's  claw.  Each  fang  is  a 
large  and  curved  tooth  terminating  in  a  sharp  point.  Near  its 
root  it  is  grooved,  or  slit,  then  the  edges  of  the  slit  close  and  it 
becomes  a  canal,  to  open  again  into  the  groove  near  the  pointed 
tip.  When  the  snake  wishes  to  strike,  the  fangs  are  unhinged 
downward,  after  the  mouth  is  very  widely  opened.  The  two 
actions  are  not  dependent  upon  each  other,  as  the  mouth  is  often 
opened  and  the  fangs  remain  sheathed.  For  while  at  rest  they  are 
enclosed  in  a  muscular  sheath,  which  drops  back  into  folds  at  the 
base  when  the  tooth  is  in  active  service.  The  elevation  of  the 
fangs  is  a  voluntary  action  on  the  part  of  the  snake,  and  it  is 
sometimes  done  with  a  deliberation  that  is  as  lazy  and  slow  as  the 
action  of  a  sleepy  cat. 

In  striking  from  the  coil  the  rattler  is  not  to  be  supposed  com- 
pletely coiled.  The  neck  and  upper  part  of  the  trunk  are  not 
thrown  into  circles,  but  lie  in  two  or  three  curves  or  folds  across 


176  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

the  mass  of  the  coiled  body,  with  the  head  raised  three  or  four 
inches.  Out  of  its  mouth  darts  the  forked  tongue,  an  invariable 
sign  of  irritation  and  anger.  The  end  of  the  tail  is  generally 
either  elevated  a  little  from  the  center  of  the  coil  or  on  one  side, 
and  is  projected  far  enough  away  to  allow  of  its  vibrating  with 
freedom  and  speed.  The  noise  is  one  to  be  readily  recognized 
by  those  who  have  never  heard  it,  and  never  forgotten  by  those 
to  whom  it  is  familiar. 

With  a  dart  forward  that  is  lightning-like  in  its  rapidity,  the 
snake  strikes  its  object,  and  as  the  teeth  or  fangs  enter  the  flesh 
several  muscular  movements  take  place  almost  simultaneously. 
The  body  of  the  snake  acts  as  an  anchor,  while  a  neck  contraction 
draws  the  head  back  so  as  to  force  the  fangs  in  deeper.  At  the 
same  time  certain  other  muscles  draw  the  points  violently  back- 
ward, and  this  sinks  them  deeper  still.  Immediately,  or  simul- 
taneously, the  lower  jaw,  with  its  pointed  teeth,  closes  upon  the 
object,  and  this  results  in  the  farther  deepening  of  the  wound 
and  in  the  injection  of  the  poison.  If  the  object  be  large  and 
flat,  so  that  the  lower  jaw  cannot  get  under  the  object,  this  last 
action  is  considerably  minified,  though  the  ejection  of  the  poison 
takes   place. 

According  to  Dr.  Weir  Mitchell  the  muscles  that  help  draw  up 
the  lower  jaw  are  so  folded  about  the  poison  gland  that  it  is  simul- 
taneously squeezed  and  the  poison  is  thus  forced  into  the  duct 
leading  to  the  fang.  This  would  make  the  ejaculation  of  the 
poison  involuntary  on  the  part  of  the  snake,  though  elsewhere 
the  learned  doctor  explains  fully  his  discovery  of  a  sphincter 
muscle  which,  by  its  contraction,  closes  the  duct,  so  that,  although 
there  is  muscular  pressure  upon  the  gland,  the  snake,  at  will, 
can  close  the  sphincter  and  thus  prevent  the  ejaculation  of  the 
poison.  My  own  observations  have  confirmed  this,  as  in  my 
own  case  when  bitten,  though  both  fangs  penetrated  my  thumb, 
the  right  poison  gland  only  was  evacuated,  and  I  afterward 
forcibly  compelled  the  ejaculation  of  the  poison  from  the  left 
gland. 

The  connection  between  the  gland,  the  duct,  and  the  fang  will 
be  clear  from  the  accompanying  diagram.  But  it  should  be 
remembered  that  the  fang,  when  closed  and  sheathed,  has  no 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert 


177 


connection  with  the  duct.  It  is  only  when  the  fang  is  raised  that 
the  two  come  together,  and  should  there  be  any  misplacement 
of  any  kind,  the  poison  escapes  through  the  opening  of  the  duct 
and  tails  to  enter  the  fang.  This  fact  explains  what  many  have 
noted  but  failed  to  understand,  viz.,  that  sometimes  there  is  a 
large  amount  of  the  venom  spilled  outside  the  wound  made  by 
the  fang. 

The  growth  of  the  fangs  is  a  remarkable  provision  of  nature. 
Behind  the  fang  in  service  are  a  number  of  subsidiary  or  reserve 
fangs,  the  one  nearest  to  the  active  fang  being  thrust  forward 
when  required  to  take  its  place.  If  it  be  lost  or  shed  it  is  speedily 
replaced  (within  a  few  days),  but  if  broken  or  violently  displaced 
it  requires  several  weeks.  There  are  from  eight  to  ten  of  these 
reserve  fangs  in  all  stages  of 
growth,  from  tiny  ones  that  ap- 
pear as  mere  points. 

The  poison  glands  are  at  the 
rear  of  the  base  of  the  fangs,  be- 
hind  the  eyes,  on  the  sides  of  the 
upper  jaw.  In  shape  the  gland 
is  a  flattened,  almond-shaped 
oval,  the  rear  end  being  well 
rounded,  and  the  front  end  taper- 
ing to  the  duct,  which  begins  just  behind  and  below  the  eveball. 

The  mouth  glands  of  reptiles  are  more  specialized  than  the 
mouth  glands  of  amphibia.  This  is  clearly  shown,  not  only  by 
the  fact  that  they  are  separated  into  distinct  groups,  but  by  the 
greater  complexity  of  the  individual  elements  of  the  glands.  The 
poison  gland  of  the  rattlesnake  is  a  modified  form  of  a  part  of 
the  upper  labial  gland.  This  gland  has  no  well-defined  homo- 
logue  in  the  mouth  of  the  mammal,  though  a  number  of  small 
glands  occupy  nearly  the  same  position,  and  have  a  similar  struc- 
ture. It  would  be  interesting  and  instructive  if  we  could  trace 
out,  step  by  step,  the  modifying  processes,  and  understand  the 
conditions  that  caused  the  modifications  from  a  harmless  labial 
gland  to  a   poison-secreting  gland. 

It  would  seem  that  it  ought  not  to  be  necessary,  at  this  day 
and  date,  to  have  to  smite  another  popular  illusion  about  the 

Vol.  I.  -  12 


Diagram  showing  rattlesnake' s 
fangs  and  poison  glands 


178  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

rattlesnake.  Yet  as  I  am  constantly  meeting  with  it  in  daily  life 
I  will  refer  to  it  in  these  pages.  It  is  a  popular  belief  that  the 
number  of  rattles  denotes  the  age  of  the  snake,  there  being  one 
rattle  or  bone  for  each  year.  This  is  utter  nonsense.  I  have 
found  large  and  old  rattlers  with  but  two  or  three  joints,  for  the 
rattle  is  a  most  delicate  instrument,  easily  broken  or  injured. 
The  fact  is  the  joints  grow  at  the  rate  of  from  two  to  four  each  year. 
One  careful  observer  who  reared  some  snakes  in  natural  condi- 
tions found  that  the  joints  corresponded  with  the  exuviation  (or 
skin-shedding)  of  the  reptile,  and  that  of  two  snakes  one,  at  the  end 
of  sixteen  months,  had  six  joints,  and  the  other  seven,  though  the 
latter,  at  one  of  the  exuviations,  lost  three  of  the  joints.  Hence, 
though  both  of  the  same  age  (sixteen  months),  one  had  four  joints 
and  the  other  six,  and  none  but  the  observer  would  have  known 
that  the  four-jointed  rattle  reptile  had  lost  three  of  his  joints. 

There  has  been  much  discussion  as  to  the  real  purpose  of  the 
rattle,  and  scientists  have  not  yet  come  to  any  unanimous  con- 
clusion. As  far  as  the  relation  of  man  is  concerned  the  rattle 
is  a  decided  disadvantage  to  the  reptile.  But,  of  course,  the 
rattle  was  evolved  long  before  man  appeared  upon  the  scene. 
It  has  been  suggested  that  the  object  of  the  rattle  is  to  decoy 
insect-eating  birds  into  the  range  of  the  rattler's  spring,  because 
even  man  often  mistakes  the  call  of  the  locust  (Cicada  rimosa, 
Gay)  for  the  rattle.  But  how  about  the  facts  that  rattlesnakes 
eat  comparatively  few  birds,  and  that  birds  in  hunting  insects 
seem  to  rely  far  more  upon  their  sight  than  the  sounds  they  hear  ? 

Other  learned  professors  contend  that  it  is  for  the  purpose  of 
attracting  the  sexes  together  at  mating  time,  and  it  has  been 
observed  that  during  a  fight  with  hogs  other  snakes  responded 
to  the  rattling  of  the  reptiles  that  were  attacked. 

Still  another  suggests  that  it  may  be  for  the  purpose  of  paralyz- 
ing the  snake's  prey  with  the  sound,  but  experience  demonstrates 
that  animals  and  birds  alike  hear  it  and  are  both  unconscious 
and  unafraid,  unless  in  the  very  presence  of  the  reptile. 

A  su£o-estion  that  finds  much  favor  is  that  the  rattle  is  a  noise 
of  warning,  and  therefore  part  of  the  defensive  armament  of  the 
reptile,  suggesting  to  the  outsider  that  the  poisonous  creature  is 
alert,  aware  of  his  presence,  and  ready  to  defend  himself. 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  179 

Herbert  Spencer  believed  that  the  rattling  of  the  snake's  tail 
is  like  the  wagging  of  a  dog's  tail,  an  escape  of  nervous  force 
which  can  find  no  other  ready  mode  of  manifestation  at  the  time. 

All  these  theories  are  interesting  and  it  may  be  there  is  a 
modicum  of  truth  in  each  of  them. 

The  most  practical  thing  of  all,  however,  is  to  know  how  to 
treat  a  snake-bite,  should  one  be  unfortunate  enough  to  be  bitten. 
Much  depends  upon  the  dangerousness  of  the  bite,  viz.,  the 
depth  of  the  wound,  the  amount  of  poison  ejected  into  it,  and, 
of  greater  importance  still,  the  location  of  the  wound. 

Ordinarily  few  snake-bites  reach  the  veins,  hence  the  action 
of  the  poison  is  slow,  and  the  bitten  person  need  have  no  fear. 
The  first  thing  to  do  is  to  tie  a  strong  ligature  or  two  between 
the  wound  and  the  heart,  wherever  practicable.  A  broad,  flat 
band  is  better  than  a  string-  which  cuts  into  the  flesh.  Tighten 
this  band  by  twisting  it  with  a  stick.  This  band  should  be  re- 
leased for  a  moment  or  two  every  ten  minutes  to  allow  a  trifle 
more  of  the  poison  to  be  absorbed  by  the  system.  Now  cut 
with  a  pocket  knife  as  deeply  into  the  flesh  as  the  snake  punc- 
tures have  gone  and  make  the  blood  flow  freely.  Suck  out  the 
blood  from  the  wound.  This  is  perfectly  harmless  unless  the 
person  doing  it  has  abrasions  of  the  skin  on  lips,  tongue,  or  mouth. 
Now  administer  a  teaspoonful  of  whisky,  770/  more,  every  fifteen 
minutes,  and  get  your  patient  to  a  doctor  as  quickly  as  possible. 

There  are  remedies,  however,  that  one  can  carry  in  his  vest 
pocket,  and  that  are  as  easy  to  apply  as  the  foregoing  directions 
are  to  follow.  I  have  had  a  small  case  prepared,  accompany- 
ing which  is  a  small  pamphlet  giving  full  particulars  of  how  to 
use  the  remedies. 

As  a  rule  a  horse  is  afraid  of  a  rattlesnake,  especially  if  it  has 
been  bitten.  Two  lady  friends  of  mine  were  driving  over  the 
desert,  and  they  suddenly  came  upon  a  rattler  sunning  itself  in 
the  road.  As  the  horse  approached  his  snakeship  drew  himself 
up  into  a  coil,  and  lifted  both  his  head  and  his  rattle  in  warning, 
darting  his  forked  tongue  to  and  fro.  The  horse,  immediately 
he  heard  the  rattle,  backed  off,  and  the  ladies,  not  knowing 
what  was  the  matter,  sought  to  urge  him  forward,  even  using 
the  whip  for  the  purpose.     But  the  horse  knew  best,  and,  for- 


180  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

tunately,  the  desert  being  free  from  gullies,  he  was  soon  out  of 
danger,  and,  making  a  respectful   detour,  continued  his  journey. 

The  Gila  monster  (Heloderma  suspectum,  Cope)  is  seldom 
seen  on  the  Colorado  Desert,  though  in  twenty  years  I  have  seen 
three  or  four.  This  is  a  large,  heavily  built  lizard,  from  a  foot 
to  two  feet  in  length,  with  short  limbs  and  tail,  and  entirely 
distinct  from  any  other  lizard  of  the  region,  both  in  its  size  and 
stockiness  of  build.  It  and  the  rattlesnake  are  the  only  two 
dangerous  or  poisonous  reptiles  of  the  desert. 

Many  desert  people  will  tell  you  that  the  heloderma  has  no 
poison  glands  and  that,  therefore,  his  bite  is  not  dangerous. 
This  error  doubtless  arises  from  the  fact  that  there  are  well- 
authenticated  cases  of  his  bite  that  have  caused  nothing  more 
than  a  slight  inconvenience.  But  it  is  a  most  dangerous  error. 
The  venom  of  the  heloderma  is  as  poisonous  as  that  of  the  rattle- 


Gila  monster 

snake,  as  several  people  who  have  been  bitten  have  found  out  to 
their  cost.  For  many  years  I  have  been  investigating  this  sub- 
ject and  I  will  make  quite  clear  why  some  people  are  bitten  by 
the  heloderma  without  injury  and  others  suffer  severely. 

The  venom  glands  are  situated  under  the  chin  —  thus  being 
on  the  lower  jaw,  instead  of  the  upper,  as  in  the  case  of  the 
rattlesnake.  "They  are  modified  from  glands  which  correspond 
to  the  sublingual  glands  of  mammals.  There  are  four  ducts 
leading  out  of  each  gland.  These  ducts  perforate  the  lower  jaw 
and  open  in  front  of  the  grooved  teeth.  A  careful  study  of  the 
dentition  of  the  heloderma  shows  that  there  are  several  inter- 
mediate forms  between  the  unmodified  teeth  of  the  reptile  and 
the  fully  developed  poison  fangs.  The  poison  glands  are  com- 
pound tubular  glands,  closely  resembling  the  other  salivary 
glands  in  structure.  The  peculiarity  of  their  secretion  is  to  be 
explained  by  their  physiological  activity  rather  than  by  their 
structure."     So   writes    my   friend,    Dr.    C.    A.   Whiting   of  the 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  181 

Pacific  College  of  Osteopathy,  who  has  given  some  time  to  the 
study  of  the  teeth  and  glands  of  the  heloderma.  Though  their 
poison  teeth  are  grooved,  there  is  no  direct  connection  between 
the  poison  glands  and  the  teeth,  as  in  the  case  of  the  duct  of  the 
rattlesnake.  The  poison  flows  out  onto  the  floor  of  the  mouth, 
between  the  lips  and  the  gums,  that  is,  into  the  interior  of  the 
bottom  jaw.  Being  below  the  teeth  and  not  directly  communi- 
cated to  them,  the  poison  sometimes  fails  to  find  its  way  into  a 
wound.  The  saliva  of  the  upper  jaw  is  perfectly  harmless,  as  is 
also  the  same  saliva  in  the  lower  jaw.  But  it  must  not  be  for- 
gotten that  there  is  also  a  deadly  venom  in  the  lower  jaw,  which 
gets  mixed  with  the  saliva. 

As  a  rule  the  Gila  monster  is  lazy  and  sluggish,  and  one  might 
play  with  him  for  hours  and  keep  him  as  a  pet  for  years  and 
never  see  any  sign  of  anger.  But  let  him  be  angered  and  then 
he  is  dangerous.  And  the  real  danger  comes  when,  as  he  bites, 
he  turns  over.  With  a  vicious  lunge  he  seizes  the  object  and  at 
the  same  moment  turns  over  with  lightning-like  rapidity.  He 
can  hold  on  with  the  tenacity  of  a  bulldog  or  he  can  bite  so 
quickly  that  he  "snips"  a  piece  of  flesh  out  easier  than  one 
would  pinch  off  a  piece  of  a  cracker.  I  have  seen  this  action  a 
hundred  times,  and  this  is  what  one  must  beware  of.  When  the 
reptile  thus  bites,  holds  on,  and  turns  over  the  danger  of  the  case 
is  as  great  as  the  most  dangerous  bite  of  a  rattlesnake,  for  in  this 
position,  if  the  poison  glands  are  active,  the  saliva  and  poison 
commingle  and  flow  freely  into  the  teeth  and  thus  into  the  wound. 
As  will  be  seen  in  my  comments  upon  the  chuckwalla,  this  "turn- 
ing over"  is  a  habit  of  the  latter  reptile.  Yet  the  chuckwalla 
has  no  poison  glands.  There  seems,  however,  to  be  a  relation- 
ship in  this  peculiar  habit,  which,  as  far  as  I  know,  is  confined 
to  these  two  reptilian  inhabitants  of  the  desert.  How  strange 
and  singular  the  provisions  of  Nature  for  the  protection  of  her 
various  children! 

With  the  chuckwalla  the  rapid  turning  over  seems  to  be  to 
give  added  purchase  in  biting  its  enemies  or  prey.  The  ques- 
tions that  arise  are:  Is  the  turning  over  of  the  heloderma  for  the 
purpose  of  rendering  effective  the  working  of  its  poison  appara- 
tus ?     If  so,  what  is  the  reason  of  the  turning  over  of  the  chuck- 


182  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

walla  ?  Is  it  a  survival  of  a  useless  and  unnecessary  habit  in  the 
chuckwalla,  seeing  that  it  has  no  poison  to  distribute,  or  is  the 
development  of  the  poison  glands  in  the  heloderma  a  later  evo- 
lution, while  the  chuckwalla  has  evolved  in  a  different  line  ? 

The  treatment  for  the  bite  of  the  heloderma  is  the  same  as 
that  for  the  bite  of  the  rattlesnake. 

In  a  wild  state  the  heloderma  lives  largely  on  birds'  eggs, 
young  rabbits,  and  though  apparently  so  clumsy  and  slow  is 
an  expert  bush  climber.  I  have  seen  him  perched  high  on  a 
mesquite  and  have  been  considerably  startled  at  his  presence. 
His  five-toed  "hands  and  feet"  are  well  adapted  to  climbing, 
which  he  does  both  easily  and  gracefully.  Certain  specimens  that 
have  been  in  captivity  are  thus  referred  to  by  Professor  R.  L.  Dit- 
mars,  their  curator  at  the  Bronx  Zoological  Park:  "The  Gila 


monster  may  be  placed  under  the  head  of  omnivorous  lizards, 
as  in  captivity  it  feeds  almost  exclusively  upon  eggs  —  the  food 
which  most  certainly  cannot  form  a  large  proportion  of  its 
nourishment  in  a  wild  state.  Our  captive  specimens  never  have 
been  induced  to  take  other  food  than  eggs,  either  boiled  or  raw, 
the  latter  sometimes  mixed  with  chopped  meat.  Unless  mixed 
with  eggs  they  will  not  eat  meat.  With  stolid  indifference  they 
refuse  morsels  that  are  dear  to  the  ordinary  reptile  of  their  size, 
such  as  very  young  rodents,  large  grubs,  and  meal  worms.  Ants 
and  their  eggs  are  said  to  furnish  a  large  proportion  of  this 
reptile's  food,  but  all  the  specimens  under  the  writer's  observa- 
tion have  refused  them.  They  have  lived  with  us  for  four  years, 
and  have  thrived  upon  their  simple  and  unvarying  diet." 

In  referring  to  the  changes  noticed  in  the  actions  of  captive 
animals   when    placed   outside   and    under   the   influence   of  the 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  183 

outer  air,  sunshine  and  natural  surroundings,  Professor  Dit- 
mars  thus  writes  of  the  heloderma:  "The  most  interesting  demon- 
stration of  this  mental  change  has  been  in  connection  with 
specimens  of  the  venomous  Gila  monster.  In  their  cages  these 
lizards  are  the  personification  of  good  nature,  permitting  them- 
selves to  be  handled  in  the  most  unceremonious  manner,  with- 
out the  least  show  of  bad  temper.  Removed  to  a  sand-pile 
heated  to  a  high  temperature  under  a  bright  sun,  and  left  for  a 
few  minutes,  they  become  different  creatures.  They  will  snap 
viciously  from  side  to  side,  and  resent  the  least  intimation  of 
interference  with  sharp  hisses  as  they  lie  open-mouthed,  await- 
ing an  opportunity  to  close  with  bulldog  tenacity  upon  an 
offending  object.  On  several  occasions  when  endeavoring  to 
extract  poison  from  these  lizards,  the  writer  has  been  unable  to 
provoke  them  to  bite,  but  after  giving  them  a  sun-bath  for  a  few 
moments  had  considerable  difficulty  in  disengaging  their  jaws 
from  the  glass  vessel  in  which  the  fluid  was  collected,  although 
the  temperature  of  the  outside  air  and  sunlight  which  had  aroused 
such  hostility  differed  but  slightly  from  the  warm  air  of  their 
indoor  cages." 

The  heloderma  is  a  strictly  oviparous  lizard.  A  captive  speci- 
men, measuring  nineteen  and  a  half  inches,  deposited  four  eggs, 
each  two  and  three-quarters  inches  long,  and  one  and  a  half  inches 
in  diameter.  The  eggs  were  covered  with  a  leathery  integument, 
but,  though  fertile,  the  conditions  for  development  were  adverse, 
as,  in  spite  of  every  known  precaution,  they  shriveled  up  and 
their  contents   solidified. 

Few  people,  save  experts,  have  any  idea  as  to  the  number  and 
variety  of  the  lizards  found  even  in  the  limited  area  of  the  desert. 
Van  Denburgh  names  and  describes  a  large  number  that  are 
found  either  on  the  desert  proper,  in  the  passes  leading  into  it, 
or  on  the  surrounding  mountains. 

All  of  these  species  have  habits,  anatomy,  and  markings  pecul- 
iarly their  own,  which  would  require  far  more  space  than  I  can 
afford  merely  to  enumerate.  The  following  general  descriptions, 
with  a  few  specific  details  of  individual  species,  cannot  fail  to 
prove  interesting. 

Especially  would  I  commend  to  students  of  art  in  form  the 


184  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

markings  on  the  bodies  of  some  of  these  reptiles.  Of  their  kind 
there  is  nothing  more  beautiful  in  creation  than  the  markings  on 
the  skin  of  some  rattlesnakes  and  lizards.  Nature  seems  to  have 
provided  for  every  esthetic  need  of  man.  Designers  for  dress 
patterns,  wall-papers,  even  table-cloths  can  find  suggestions 
innumerable  in  these  markings;  nay,  many  of  them  are  all  ready 
to  be  bodily  transferred,  with  such  modifications  of  color  as  their 
new  uses  may  suggest,  into  commercial  forms  of  surpassing 
beauty.  Take,  for  instance,  the  markings  on  the  body  of  the 
silvery  footless  lizard,  and  those  of  the  diamond-backed 
rattlesnake. 

The  chuckwalla  is  the  best  known  of  the  larger  lizards  of  the 
desert.     It  is  sometimes  known  as  the  Alder- 
man lizard,   though  its  scientific  name  is 

Sau r om  alus 
ater,  Dame'ril. 
This  is  one  of 
the  most   in- 
teresting crea- 
Chuckwalla  tureg    of    the 

desert. 
The  chuckwalla  has  a  body  something  like  that  of  a  toad,  flat 
and  squat,  about  three  and  a  half  inches  across,  with  a  thick 
stubby  neck,  and  the  head  of  a  lizard.  Its  head  is  about  eight 
inches  long.  The  complete  length  of  one  specimen  that  I  meas- 
ured was  thirteen  and  a  half  inches  long,  divided  as  follows:  head, 
one  and  a  quarter  inches;  neck,  three-quarters  of  an  inch;  body, 
four  and  one-quarter  inches,  and  tail,  seven  and  one-quarter 
inches.  His  body  was  beautifully  mottled  or  spotted,  mainly 
a  dark  reddish  brown,  with  small  spots  of  orange  and  cream. 
The  tail  was  of  light  gray  or  cream,  and  with  armored  rings.  The 
whole  appearance  of  the  body  covering  was  almost  that  of  fine 
and  rich  beadwork,  the  beads  being  exceedingly  small  and 
symmetrically  arranged.  They  were  in  perfect  rows,  and  the 
size  of  the  bead  (which  in  reality  is  a  scale)  grows  smaller  the 
farther  away  it  is  from  the  spine.  On  stroking  the  body  it  felt 
like  a  hard-napped  velvet,  so  smooth  and  fine  were  the  scales, 
but  upon  stroking  it  the  other  way,  or  towards  the  head,  it  had 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  185 

a  rough  and  wood-fiber  feeling.  The  color  under  his  stomach 
was  the  same  as  on  the  upper  part  of  the  body,  save  that  it 
was  a  little  darker. 

The  various  specimens  of  the  chuckwalla  show  great  variations 
in  color  and  in  the  bands  on  the  tail.  The  specimen  I  have 
before  me  now  has  no  bands  whatever.  Van  Denburgh  says 
"these  may  be  present  or  absent  in  the  same  individual  at  differ- 
ent times,  and  the  change  seems  to  be,  at  least  to  some  extent, 
directly  under  the  control  of  the  animal." 

When  my  specimen  was  caught  he  made  show  of  fight,  open- 
ing his  mouth  either  in  anger  or  fear,  and  showing  his  two  rows 
of  saw  teeth,  that  looked  almost  like  very  small  fish-bones.  In 
the  hands  the  chuckwalla  readily  subsides  and  seems  thor- 
oughly to  enjoy  being  stroked  and  petted,  especially  on  the  head. 
He  closes  his  eyes,  as  if  in  perfect  content,  and  makes  no  attempt 
to  escape.  The  ears  have  almost  the  appearance  of  attenuated 
fish-gills,  and  the  five  fingers  of  the  four  feet  are  a  singular  com- 
bination of  bird  and  monkey  claw.  When  frightened  the  chuck- 
walla exhales  so  that  his  sides  suddenly  cave  in  and  then  the 
skin  wrinkles  up  like  the  face  of  a  very  old  Indian. 

The  chuckwalla  is  doubtless  harmless  as  far  as  venom  is  con- 
cerned, as  the  scientists  assert,  but  when  angered  he  is  quite 
vicious,  both  with  tail  and  mouth.  His  teeth,  however,  are  not 
very  marked.  They  are  like  those  of  a  fish,  but  his  grip  with  his 
jaw  is  strong.  He  also,  like  the  Gila  monster,  has  a  habit  of  ex- 
pelling the  breath,  scarcely  a  hiss,  which  is  an  indication  of  anger  or 
fear.  When  he  bites  viciously  he  turns  completely  over,  and  if 
the  substance  he  bites  is  of  a  yielding  nature  I  have  seen  him  turn 
with  such  force  as  to  roll  over  three  or  four  times.  As  I  write 
a  captive  chuckwalla,  tied  by  a  string,  is  at  my  feet.  On  poking 
my  pencil  at  him  he  bit  it  so  viciously  as  to  cut  off  the  point  (with 
some  of  the  wood),  and  then,  when  I  shook  a  paper  before  him, 
he  suddenly  bit  that  and  rolled  over  three  times,  so  as  to  com- 
pletely envelop  himself  as  in  a  paper  wrapper.  He  coiled  the 
string  around  his  body  several  times,  and  I  had  to  turn  him  back 
again  or  cut  the  string  in  order  to  release  him. 

The  Chuckwalla  Mountains  receive  their  name  from  the  fact 
that  large  numbers  are  found  there.    In  fact,  in  all  the  mountains 


186  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

between  the  Salton  Basin  and  the  Mohave  Desert  the  chuckwalla 
is  abundant.  He  loves  the  rugged,  creviced  rocks.  Here  he  can 
lie  and  bask  in  the  hot  sun  to  his  heart's  content,  and  here,  in  the 
crevices,  he  finds  shelter  and  home.  The  buds  and  blossoms, 
leaves  and  young  shoots  of  the  creosote  bush  give  him  abundant 
food,  and  in  the  spring  at  any  rate,  when  the  rains  have  made 
every  plant  flourish,  he  is  evidently  happy,  contented,  and  well  fed. 
He  is  a  somewhat  shy  creature,  averse  to  being  watched  too 
closely,  though  somewhat  sluggish  in  his  movements,  and  by  no 
means  aggressive  when  attacked.  He  slides  into  a  near-by  crack 
or  crevice,  and  lies  there  as  if  hoping  you  will  speedily  go  away 
and  leave  him.  If  you  can  reach  him  with  a  stick  and  touch  his 
hind  legs,  he  has  a  way  of  striking  a  vicious  side- 
stroke  with  his  tail  that  would  very 
effectively  knock  out  any  small 
animal  that  stood  in  its 
Like  a  released 


My  chuckwalla  showing  fight 


spring  it  strikes  "thud,"  and  the  tail  being  covered  with  a  hard 
armor,  the  blow  is  not  to  be  despised. 

If  you  force  him  to  a  further  retreat  he  will  seek  to  penetrate 
to  an  extremely  narrow  crack  where  you  cannot  possibly  reach 
him.  He  has  powers  of  compression  that  are  remarkable.  But 
if  while  in  this  position  you  can  seize  his  tail,  and  think  that 
thereby  you  have  him,  you  are  destined  to  find  out  your  error. 
You  pull,  and  pull,  and  continue  to  pull,  and  if  your  strength 
surpasses  your  knowledge  you  will  pull  a  portion  of  the  poor 
creature's  tail  off,  but  you  will  make  no  progress  in  removing  him 
from  his  retreat.  For  a  long  time  I  could  not  see  what  it  was 
that  gave  him  such  a  tenacious  hold.  His  claws  did  not  seem 
strong  enough,  and  on  several  occasions  I  was  able  to  pry  up  the 
rear  legs  so  that  there  was  no  holding  power  in  them,  and  yet  the 
reptile  held  on.     At  last  I  discovered  that  when  he  was  entrapped 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  is? 

in  this  manner  he  fills  his  lungs  to  their  utmost  capacity.  This 
pushes  his  body,  both  belly  and  back,  close  to  the  rocks  above 
and  below,  and  the  rough  surface  of  his  body  then  gives  him  a 
sure  hold  upon  the  rocks.  When  he  is  thus  wedged  in,  and  it  is 
possible  to  get  at  his  head  or  nose,  a  few  prods  will  cause  him  to 
exhale.  Then  he  backs  or  sidles  out  as  easily  as  can  be,  though 
before  you  may  have  thought  the  crevice  so  small  that  he  was 
wedged  in  and  could  never  escape. 

I  am  not  sure  but  that  it  is  a  fiction  that  it  does  not  hurt  a 
chuckwalla  to  pull  off  his  tail.  I  saw  two  one  day,  the  first  of 
which  had  lost  over  an  inch  and  a  half  of  his  tail.  The  other  had 
his  full  complement.  I  followed  the  latter  one  to  his  hiding- 
place,  where  he  showed  no  fight,  but  tried  to  get  farther  from 
me  in  the  narrow  cleavage  of  the  rock.  I  caught  his  tail  and 
pulled.  About  an  inch  came  off.  At  that  point  there  was  no 
blood,  but  a  full  inch  higher  up  a  little  blood  oozed  from  between 
the  joints  of  his  armor,  and  therefore  I  am  inclined  to  think  a 
wound  was  caused  which  produced  pain.  When  I  tried  to  make 
him  show  fight  by  prodding  him  in  front  he  made  no  effort  to 
escape,  but  opened  his  mouth  and  seized  the  brass  end  of  my 
pencil  so  that  it  required  a  sharp  jerk  to  remove  it.  There  was 
also  a  slight  frothing  at  the  mouth. 

The  Indians  of  the  desert,  who  still  live  in  a  somewhat  wilder 
condition  than  their  brothers  of  the  settlements,  regard  the 
chuckwalla  highly  as  an  article  of  diet.  They  waste  no  time  in 
dressing  them,  but  throw  the  whole  reptile,  skin,  tail,  and  all,  into 
the  stew  pot.  The  eater  of  frogs'  legs  can  readily  believe  what 
others  may  rather  doubt,  that  the  chuckwalla,  properly  prepared, 
is  a  dish  for  an  epicure.  Especially  after  the  spring  rains  his 
flesh  is  white,  sweet,  and  tender,  and  is  not  unlike  the  dainty  flesh 
of  the  frog's  leg. 

In  our  various  peregrinations  my  assistants  and  I  have  often 
seen  the  chuckwalla  climb  the  greasewood  and  creosote  bushes 
and  eat  the  young  buds.  Various  dissections  have  convinced  me 
that  he  is,  as  a  rule,  a  strict  vegetarian,  and  I  can  vouch  for  the 
rich  delicacy  of  his  flesh.     It  is  white,  sweet,  tender,  and  juicy. 

Few  people,  looking  at  the  lizards  as  they  dart  to  and  fro  in 
the  sunlight,   see   any  similarity  between   them    and   the    birds. 


188 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


Yet  all  our  leading  scientists  tell  us  that  birds  and  lizards  are  so 
closely  allied,  share  so  many  and  important  structural  char- 
acteristics that  they  are  united  in  one  group  —  the  vertebrates, 
or  animals  with  a  backbone.  So  careful  a  scientist  as  Huxley 
declares  that  the  chief  or  most  positive  difference  between  reptiles 
and  birds  as  we  know  them  to-day  is  in*  the  matter  of  feathers. 

In  other  words,  the  bird  is  but  a  reptile  covered  with  feathers. 
Yet,  to  our  unaided  eyes,  how  wide  the  gap  seems,  and  what  a 
reflection  it  is  upon  our  so-called  "instinctive  feelings."  We 
shudder  with  horror  and  disgust  at  the  sight  of  a  lizard,  while  we 
exclaim  with  rapture  at  the  sight  of  a  bird. 

Yet  to  the  unprejudiced  eye  —  and  I  think  mine  is  one  —  the 
beauty  of  the  lizard  does  not  suffer  in  comparison  with  the  beauty 
of  the  bird.  The  colorings  and  markings  of  the  one  are  as  ex- 
quisite and  perfect  in  their  way  as 
are  the  feathers  and   colorings  of 

w 


Burnett's 

alligator  lizard 


the  other.  And  while  nothing  can  be  compared  with  the  graceful 
flight  of  the  bird,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  graceful  and  easily 
fluent  motion  of  the  lizard  is  a  matter  of  wonder  and  delight  to 
the  observer. 

Birds  have  peculiar  breathing  powers,  owing  to  the  hollowness 
of  their  body  structure.  Lizards,  too,  have  the  power  of  breath- 
ing when  buried  in  hot  sand.  Birds  molt  their  feathers  at  stated 
times,  and  so  do  most  reptiles,  the  only  difference  being  that  the 
feathers  of  the  birds  come  out  one  by  one,  while  the  scales  of  the 
reptile,  with  the  entire  skin  that  holds  them,  come  off  at  one  and 
the  same  time.  We  are  all  familiar  with  the  shedding  of  the  skin 
of  the  snake.  The  reptiles  do  the  same,  yet  few  of  us  have  real- 
ized that  these  two  apparently  dissimilar  operations  are  prac- 
tically one  and  the  same  thing.  And  while  the  shedding  of  the 
bird's  tail  may  not  seem  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  ease  with 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  189 

which  one  can  pull  off  the  tail  of  a  lizard,  it  is  a  remarkable  fact 
that  both  bird  and  lizard  have  the  power  to  grow  a  new  tail  in 
about  three  weeks  when  the  conditions  are  favorable. 

The  eggs,  too,  of  the  lizard  are  exactly  the  same  as  those  ot 
the  bird,  save  that  the  latter  have  a  lining  shell,  while  the  former 
have  only  a  thick,  membranous  integument.  The  lizards  lay 
their  eggs  in  the  warm,  moist  earth,  never  in  dry  sand  if  they  can 
find  the  moisture,  and  leave  them  for  the  sun  to  mother. 

When  they  are  small  how  puny,  cunning,  and  interesting  they 
are!  How  curious  they  are!  If  curiosity  is  preeminently  a 
human  trait  it  is  one  that  has  descended  from  a  long  line  of 
ancestors,  beginning  with  the  lizard,  for  as  soon  as  he  sees 
anything  strange  he  first  squats  down,  as  if  to  hide,  and  then, 
overcoming  his  fear,  he  must  see  what  goes  on.  Stretching  his 
legs  to  the  utmost,  he  rises,  as  it  were, 
on  tiptoes,  cranes  his  neck,  looks  in- 
tently and  at  the  slightest  movement 
squats  down  again  with  great  rapidity,  Small 
to  repeat  the  stretching  and  peeking  as  desert 
soon  as  he  thinks  it  is  safe.  lizard 

One  seldom   sees  lizards  out  early  in 
the  morning.     They  love  the  warmth,  and  wait  until  the  sun  has 
risen.     I  think  I  never  saw  one,  except  in  a  very  exposed  place, 
until  after  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

The  desert  whiptail,  commonly  called  the  snake-lizard  (Cnemi- 
dophorus  tigris,  Baird  and  Girard),  is  a  long,  beautifully  colored, 
and  graceful  creature,  that  is  not  unlike  a  snake,  with  four  legs 
added  as  an  afterthought.  The  body  is  a  rich,  old  gold  green, 
the  head  almost  black  and  spotted  with  a  greenish  bronze.  He 
waddles  along  in  a  slow  and  deliberate  manner,  over,  under, 
and  around  the  rocks,  seeking  his  food,  but  when  scared  or 
pursuing  an  insect  he  can  dart  with  great  rapidity.  I  have  seen 
one  leap  a  distance  of  two  feet  with  perfect  ease. 

One  very  interesting  lizard  is  the  desert  night  lizard  (Xantusia 
vigilis,  Baird),  quite  a  number  of  which  are  found  in  the  region 
of  the  Devil's  Garden,  northwest  of  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass. 
This  peculiar  lizard  seems  to  love  the  tree  yuccas  and  is  found  in 
quantities  in  the  dried  trees,  stems,  and  branches  that  are  rotting 


190  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

on  the  ground.  In  catching  them  one  has  to  be  quick  and 
expert  or  they  waddle  away  with  fair  speed,  and  invariably  aim 
to  get  under  one's  shoes  or  even  up  one's  legs.  They  possess  the 
power  in  a  marked  degree  so  common  to  many  of  their  class,  not 
only  of  adapting  their  color  somewhat  to  the  soil  of  their  habitat, 
but  of  becoming  lighter  colored  when  exposed  to  the  light  of 
day.  As  night  approaches  they  turn  dark  again.  These  changes 
take  but  a  few  minutes  to  accomplish. 

This  species  of  lizard  is  ovoviviparous,  giving  birth  to  fully 
developed  offspring,  as  many  as  three  having  been  known  to  be 
born  at  one  time. 

The  most  beautiful  lizard  I  have  ever  seen  I  caught  on  the 
Colorado  Desert  in  1906.     It  is  the  leopard  lizard  (Crotaphytus 
wtshzenii,  Baird  and  Girard),  and  is  known  to  the 
miners  and  teamsters  of  the  desert  as  a  "man 
eater."     The  reason  for  this  name  is  clear. 
The   markings  on  the  back  of  this  species 
of  lizard  are  all  suggestive  of  the  rich  mark- 
ings of  the  man-eating  leopards 
or  tigers  of  India. 

This  little  creature  had  lost 

r  ,  .,  ,     c        T  ,  s^^  The  banded 

part  of  her  tail  before  I  caught  Gekho  Uzard 

her.     She  was  very  swift  and  I 

had  a  long  chase  before  she  was 

captured.     Her  body  is  a  rich  brownish  cream,  with  markings  of 

a  purplish  black.     Irregular  lines  occur  in  this   beautiful    black 

that  yet  preserve  a  certain  conformity  and  appear  the  same  on 

each  side  of  the  center  line.     The  design  of  these  lines  is  made 

up  of  small  dots,  no  two  alike,  in  the  approximate  center  of  which 

a  tiny  speck  of  black  and  red  surrounded  by  infinitesimal  specks 

of  variegated  color  or  tint  occurs.    Sloping  down  on  each  side  of 

the  body  to  the  hind  legs  she  has  a  greenish  tinge,  and  the  whole 

body,  from  head  to  tail,  is  iridescent  and  exquisite  beyond  the 

power  of  words  to  describe.     The  "texture"  of  the  body  is  as 

fine  as  velvet  to  the  softest  touch,  and  the  tiny  creature  seems  to 

enjoy  being  stroked  and  caressed.     I  had  to  carry  her  nine  miles 

in  my  hands  as  I  walked  in  the  hot  sun,  and  every  once  in  a  while 

she  made  a  vigorous  struggle  to  escape,  as  a  cat  held  on  one's 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  191 

lap  will,  but  there  was  no  viciousness  or  attempt  to  bite.  Once 
when  I  was  writing  she  was  at  my  left  hand  on  the  desk,  her 
forelegs  stretched  up  to  their  longest  capacity  and  her  head  on 
one  side  peeking  at  me  with  the  greatest  curiosity.  To  keep 
her  out  of  the  reach  of  possible  dogs  or  cats  I  placed  her  on  the 
top  of  a  polished  bookcase.  But  it  was  very  uncomfortable  for 
her,  for  she  could  not  travel  on  a  smooth  surface.  Her  legs 
worked  with  great  rapidity  and  she  struggled  to  escape  with  an 
effort  that  was  pathetic,  and  yet  it  was  all  in  vain.  She  scarcely 
moved  a  half  an  inch  as  the  result  of  all  her  efforts. 

I    brought    her    home  with    me   in  a  box   containing  a  chuck- 
walla,  and  barely  had  time  to  unpack  them  one  morning  before 
hurrying  to  catch  a  train.     In  the  haste  the  lizard  could  not  be 
seen,  but  soon  afterward  my  daughter 
found  her,  and,  not  knowing  what  to  |S&r*  Horned 


do  with  her,  telephoned  to  Mrs.  Eliza-  ^pi^.  ioad 

beth  Grinnell,  the  well-known  student  «fVj£%?f'5lfc 

and   authority   on    birds   and   lizards.        r^&WX ^4'% ''^.. Jr^?. 
She  replied  that  the  best  thing  was  to  f&z*£sk 

put  the  little  creature  in  a  box  or  other 

receptacle,  with  plenty  of  sand  on  the  bottom.  As  no  box  was 
handy  a  round  zinc  wash-tub  was  found,  with  sides  a  trifle  over 
a  foot  high.  Dry  sandy  earth  was  put  on  the  bottom  and  the 
lizard  duly  installed.  For  food  "sow  bugs"  —  as  they  are  called 
— were  hunted  for,  but  she  despised  and  studiously  rejected  them, 
while  live  flies  were  eaten  up  by  the  half-dozen.  When  thirsty,  it 
was  both  interesting  and  comical  to  see  the  little  creature  lift  up 
and  throw  back  her  head,  and  stretch  her  forelegs  as  if  trying  to 
turn  a  back  somersault,  and  then  eagerly  lick  with  the  tongue 
the  drop  of  water  held  on  the  extended  finger. 

In  the  house  she  became  very  slow  and  torpid  and  evidently 
glad  to  be  handled,  and  so  every  once  in  a  while  I  would  take 
her  out  of  her  tub  and  hold  her  in  my  hands.  The  mornings 
being  cool  we  invariably  heated  a  rock  for  her,  and  then  she 
stretched  out  at  full  length  on  it  and  enjoyed  the  warmth  to  the 
full.  In  the  middle  of  the  day  when  I  could  so  place  her  tub 
as  to  catch  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun  she  became  very  active  and 
would  run  around  and  try  to  jump  out  of  her  place  of  confine- 


192  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

ment.  I  have  watched  her  for  half  an  hour  at  a  time,  after  the 
sand  was  thoroughly  warmed,  trying  to  leap  out.  Stretching  up 
eagerly  from  the  highest  part  of  the  sand,  she  would  look  toward 
the  edge  of  the  tub,  gather  herself  together  and  make  a  leap. 
It  was  a  trifle  too  high,  however,  for  her  to  escape,  though  a 
few  times  her  claws  caught  upon  the  rim  and  she  was  able  to 
pull  herself  over. 

When  wearied  in  the  daytime  or  when  ready  to  go  to  rest  at 
night  she  buried  herself  in  the  sand.  For  this  purpose  her  nose 
was  well  adapted.  It  is  of  a  peculiarly  rounded  form,  flat  under- 
neath and  somewhat  shovel-formed  above.  Her  use  of  this 
shovel-shaped  nose  became  very  apparent  as  we  watched  her 
burying  herself  in  the  sand.     Drawing  back,  as  if  for  a  veritable 

dive  into  deep  water,  she  plunged 
Homed  forward  with  a  quick,  decisive  mo- 

tion, wriggling  her  nose  into  the 
sand  as  she  pushed  herself  forward. 
Much  quicker  than  I  can  write  it, 
she  completely  covered  her  body, 
where  she  lay  squat  and  still  until 
ready  to  come  out  again. 

With  great  regret  I  parted  with 
my  pet  and  committed  her  to  the 
careful  keeping  of  Professor  Ditmars,  who  now  has  her  safe,  I 
hope,  in  the  Zoological  Park  at  the  Bronx,  New  York. 

The  horned  toad  is  another  of  the  peculiar  denizens  of  the 
desert,  though  by  no  means  confined  to  it.  I  have  found  several 
varieties  of  the  horned  toad  on  the  Colorado  Desert,  chief  of 
which  is  the  one  named  after  the  desert  (Phrynosoma  platyrhinos, 
Girard). 

In  the  course  of  a  week's  wanderings  on  the  desert  one  will 
see  scores  of  these  interesting  little  creatures.  In  color  and 
design  they  are  often  markedly  different.  Whether  this  is  the 
result  of  age,  of  variety  in  food,  or  of  different  environment  I 
cannot  say,  though  differently  marked  toads  will  be  seen  within 
a  mile  or  two  of  each  other  and  in  a  very  similar  habitat. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  is  where  the  design  is  picked  out  in 
blacks,  brick-reds,  and  creamy  white.     These  colors  are  not  all 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  193 

absolutely  of  one  shade.     They  gradate  in  tone  and  this  adds  a 
subtle  charm  to  the  general  beauty. 

Yet  in  movement  the  horned  toad  is  slow  and  peculiar  and  the 
spines  on  his  head  and  back  give  him  a  singularly  grotesque 
appearance.  These  doubtless  are  the  reasons  that  so  many 
people  are  interested  in  them  and  make  pets  of  them.  They 
tame  readily  and  will  soon  come  and  take  flies  and  other  insects 
from  one's  fingers.  Van  Denburgh  tells  of  one  of  the  most 
singular  characteristics  of  the  horned  toad  as  follows.  I  copy 
the  quotations  from  other  writers  just  as  he  has  them:  "Indi- 
vidual specimens  which  have  been  recently  caught  often  show 
considerable  anger  when  handled,  puffing  themselves  up  and 
hissing  fiercely,  seizing  their  tormentor's  fingers  with  their  im- 
potent jaws,  or  throwing  at  him  a  stream  of  blood  from  the 
corner  of  the  eye.  It  is  said  that  Mexicans  call  them  sacred 
toads  because  they  weep  tears  of  blood."  The  best  account  of 
this  most  curious  habit  has  been  given  us  by  Dr.  O.  P.  Hay,  who, 
writing  of  a  specimen  of  Phrynosoma  frontale,  says,  in  part: 

About  the  first  of  August  it  was  shedding  its  outer  skin  and 
the  process  appeared  to  be  a  difficult  one,  since  the  skin  was 
dried  and  adhered  closely.  One  day  it  occurred  to  me  that  it 
might  facilitate  matters  if  I  should  give  the  animal  a  wetting; 
so,  taking  it  up,  I  carried  it  to  a  wash-basin  of  water  near  by 
and  suddenly  tossed  the  lizard  into  the  water.  The  first  sur- 
prise was  probably  experienced  by  the  Phrynosoma,  but  the  next 
surprise  was  my  own,  for  on  one  side  of  the  basin  there  sud- 
denly appeared  a  number  of  spots  of  red  fluid,  which  resembled 
blood.  ...  A  microscope  was  soon  procured  and  an  examina- 
tion was  made,  which  immediately  showed  that  the  matter 
ejected  was  really  blood.  .  .  .  There  appeared  to  be  a  con- 
siderable quantity  of  the  blood,  since  on  the  sides  of  the  vessel 
and  on  the  wall  near  it  I  counted  ninety  of  the  little  splotches.  .  .  . 
The  next  day  ...  I  picked  up  the  lizard  and  was  holding  it 
between  my  thumb  and  middle  finger,  and  stroking  its  horns 
with  my  forefinger.  All  at  once  a  quantity  of  blood  was  thrown 
out  against  my  fingers,  and  a  portion  of  it  ran  down  the  animal's 
neck;  and  this  blood  came  directly  out  of  the  eye.  It  was  shot 
backward    and    appeared   to   issue   from   the   outer   canthus.     It 

Vol.  I.— 13 


194  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

was  impossible  to  determine  just  how  much  there  was  of  the 
blood,  but  it  seemed  that  there  must  have  been  a  quarter  of  a 
teaspoonful.  I  went  so  far  as  to  taste  a  small  quantity  of  it, 
but  all  I  could  detect  was  a  slight  musky  flavor. 

"  Mr.  Denton  .  .  .  has  communicated  to  me  his  experience  with 
a  horned  toad  at  Sonora,  California.  .  .  .  He  was  gently  strok- 
ing the  animal  on  the  back,  when  it  appeared  to  look  at  him  as 
if  taking  aim,  and  then,  all  at  once,  a  stream  of  blood  was  shot 
into  his  eye.  There  was  so  much  of  it  that  it  ran  down  on  his 
shirt  bosom.  He  thought  that  there  was  between  a  tablespoonful 
and  a  teaspoonful.  The  blood  was  shot  out  with  so  much  force 
that  some  pain  was  produced,  and  there  was  pain  felt  for  some 
little  time,  though  this  ceased  as  soon  as  the  blood  was  wiped  out. 
The  next  morning  the  eye  was  somewhat  inflamed,  but  this  con- 
dition soon  passed  away.  Not  long  afterward,  perhaps  the  next 
morning,  the  animal  squirted  blood  out  of  the  other  eye." 

Mr.  Vernon  Bailey,  who  caught  the  horned  toad  which  after- 
ward became  the  subject  of  Dr.  Hay's  article,  writes: 

On  taking  it  in  my  hand  a  little  jet  of  blood  spurted  from 
one  eye  a  distance  of  fifteen  inches  and  spattered  on  my  shoulder. 
Turning  it  over  to  examine  the  eye,  another  stream  spurted  from 
the  other  eye.  This  he  did  four  or  five  times  from  both  eyes, 
until  my  hands,  clothes,  and  gun  were  sprinkled  over  with  fine 
drops  of  bright  red  blood.  .  .  .  About  four  hours  later  it 
spurted  three  more  streams  from  its  eyes."  I  myself  have  ob- 
served this  strange  performance  twice,  only  in  these  instances 
the  blood  was  not  projected  forcibly  but  trickled  down  the  sides 
of  the  lizards'  heads. 

Upon  this  remarkable  habit  of  the  horned  toad  Professor 
Ditmars  gives  his  experience  as  follows: 

"Various  disputes  have  arisen  over  the  possibility  of  this 
occurrence.  Over  two  hundred  specimens,  representing  differ- 
ent species,  were  examined.  These  were  teased  and  provoked 
most  persistently  by  the  writer  and  the  keepers,  but  without 
result.  Their  general  attitude  was  to  feign  death,  with  eyes 
closed.  They  seldom  attempted  to  bite,  but  when  placed  on 
the  ground  would  make  off"  with  great  show  of  speed. 

"During  these  investigations   Mr.  Otto  Eggeling  of  this  city 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  195 

received  a  consignment  of  five  hundred  horned  lizards,  and  with 
the  idea  that  from  this  large  number  there  should  be  some  dis- 
play of  the  habit  —  if  it  existed  —  he  transferred  them  from  one 
box  to  another,  with  vigorous  handling.  Mr.  Eggeling  states 
that  although  some  struggled  energetically  to  escape  from  his 
grasp,  some  feigned  death,  and  a  few  made  feeble  efforts  to  bite, 
no  jet  of  blood  was  ejected  from  a  single  individual.  Subse- 
quently Mr.  Eggeling  has  received  other  shipments  of  horned 
'toads,'  aggregating  a  total  number  examined  of  about  eight 
hundred,  and  thus  far  he  has  failed  to  observe  a  single  instance 
of  the  interesting  performance  that  has  been  accredited  to  these 
creatures.  With  eight  hundred  of  these  lizards  examined  by 
Mr.  Eggeling,  and  over  two  hun- 
dred by  the  writer,  it  appears  that 
over  a  thousand  specimens  of  these 
lizards,  representing  principally  the 
species  Phrynosoma  cornutum,  P. 
coronation,  and  P.  plainvellei,  have 
passed    careful    observation    with 

no  exhibition  of  the  very  eccentric  XJf        m"'"         ''  ,   . 

...  _  .         r  jaw  Desert  tortoise, 

habit    referred    to.       It    therefore  ^^  top  view 

appears  that  the  performance  de- 
scribed by  Dr.  O.  P.  Hay  must  be  limited  to  a  very  small  propor- 
tion of  these  creatures,  or  was  accidentally  elicited  by  some  unique 
measure  not  practised  during  our  investigations." 

Personally  my  own  experience  has  been  like  that  of  Dr.  Dit- 
mars.  I  have  aroused  the  toad  so  that  his  eyes  have  been  suf- 
fused with  blood,  but  I  never  got  one  angry  enough  to  eject  the 
blood.  Yet  friends,  scientific  and  others,  in  whose  word  I  have 
the  most  implicit  faith,  tell  me  that  they  have  witnessed  it  so 
often  that  they  gaze  at  me  in  astonishment  when  I  tell  them 
that  I  have  never  seen  it. 

Be  that,  however,  as  it  may  (as  I  fully  accept  the  testimony 
above  given),  I  can  state  most  positively  that  the  chuckwalla, 
when  teased  or  angered,  will  eject  water  from  his  eyes  —  enough 
to  cause  surprise  to  the  beholder  —  say  from  twenty  to  forty 
drops.  I  do  not  recall  that  any  observer  has  yet  noted  this  fact 
which  I  have  witnessed  again  and  again. 


196  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

In  certain  localities  the  desert  tortoise  (Gopheius  agassizii, 
Cooper)  is  quite  common.  I  have  picked  up  five  specimens  in 
one  afternoon,  and  a  friend  of  mine  eight  in  two  days.  Three 
fine  examples  are  walking  around  my  feet  now  as  I  write,  and  one 
is  quite  companionable,  for  he  wants  to  walk  all  over  my  desk 
when  I  lift  him  up.  He  has  no  objections  to  my  scratching  his 
head  and  gently  rubbing  the  soft  part  of  his  flesh  between  his  head 
and  legs.  The  shell  of  this  particular  tortoise  is  nine  inches 
broad  and  eleven  and  one-half  inches  long.  With  head  and 
tail  extended  he  would  be  fully  three  inches  longer.  His  mark- 
ings are  very  beautiful  as  will  be  seen  from  Mr.  Eytel's  drawing. 
While  he  draws  his  head  in  with  great  rapidity  he  shows  little 
fear  when  I  take  him  on  my  lap  for  further  examination.  His 
eyes  are  large,  bright,  and  clear,  and  have  an  opaque  covering 
which  slides  over  them  from  the  front  backward 
at  will.  The  eyelid  covers  from  below.  While 
the  top  of  his  head  is  as  hard  and  scaly  as  alli- 
gator skin,  the  tip  of  his  nose  is  soft  and  sensi- 
tive. In  traveling  he  feels  with  his  nose.  It 
is  his  organ  of  touch.     His  front  legs  are  —  I 

Desert  tortoise,        scarcely  know  what   shape   to    call   them,    but 
bottom  view  ,  ,         . 

more  awkward  and  clumsy  looking  contrivances 

could  not  be  planned.  When  folded  up  in  his  shell  they  double 
up,  the  hand  with  its  five  horny  toes  (fingers  or  claws)  shutting  in- 
side, the  whole  presenting  a  solid  and  armored  front  to  the  foe, 
for  the  exposed  parts  of  the  legs  are  covered  with  a  scaly  armor 
that  is  very  tough  and  impenetrable.  The  rear  legs  (fitted  with 
only  four  toes)  are  more  like  those  of  an  elephant  than  anything 
else  I  can  think  of,  especially  when  he  stretches  them  out,  and 
his  tiny,  pointed  tail  is  capable  of  being  folded  up  so  that  it  does 
not  appear.  When  molested  or  afraid  he  instantly  draws  in 
head,  legs,  and  tail,  thus  completely  closing  up  both  front  and 
rear  apertures  and  presenting  nothing  but  armored  surfaces  to 
his  enemies. 

Yet  though  so  clumsy  looking  he  is  a  more  rapid  traveler  than 
one  would  imagine,  and  his  distances  lead  one  to  believe  that 
iEsop  knew  what  he  was  talking  about  when  he  made  the  tortoise 
win  the  race  with  the   hare.     He  can  walk  fully  a  dozen  miles 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  19  7 

in  a  dozen  hours,  and  when  it  comes  to  burrowing,  I  have  seen 
one  make  a  hole  in  the  ground  with — while  not  the  rapidity 
of  the  dog  —  far  greater  sureness  and  persistence.  They  can 
scoop  out  the  earth  and  throw  it  behind  them  with  accuracy 
and  speed. 

In  walking  he  first  reaches  out  with  the  left  front  foot,  then 
right  rear  foot,  right  front  foot  and  left  rear.  The  forefoot  is  lifted 
awkwardly,  and  on  placing  it  down  it  rests  first  on  the  inside  toe 
and  then  upon  all  the  others  in  order,  and,  as  he  progresses,  finally 
upon  the  ball  of  the  foot,  to  be  lilted  again,  reached  forward  and 
replaced  upon  the  first  toe,  etc.  As  he  rests  his  weight  upon  it 
he  gives  it  a  partial  twist  as  the  corresponding  rear  foot  is  raised 
for  its  progressive  motion.  The  rear  feet  rest  upon  the  ball  of 
the  foot  and  toes  simultaneously,  just  as  the  elephant's  does,  if 
my  memory  serves   me  correctly. 

The  reach  of  the  tortoise  is  very  irregular,  but  rather  remark- 
able. Here  are  the  successive  reaches  of  his  left  front  foot,  in 
inches:      5;  3!;    5I;  6^;  4*;  5-};  7;  5J;  6J;  5;  4^;  7-J;  6*;  4. 

When  alarmed  he  can  not  only  take  long  strides  fas  some  of 
these  indicate),  but  is  able  to  go  at  considerable  speed,  fullv  two 
and  one-half  miles  per  hour. 

In  color  the  shell  is  blackish  brown  on  top  and  lighter  beneath, 
with  the  peculiar  horn-like  color  showing  even  in  his  rough  and 
unpolished  condition.  The  under  shell  or  plastron,  as  will  be 
seen  from  the  drawing,  has  a  front  extension  upon  which  the  head 
rests  and  slides  in  and  out.  This  also  serves  another  most  valu- 
able purpose.  When  traveling  over  rocky  surfaces,  the  turtle 
must  sometimes  drop  from  one  level  to  another.  I  have  seen  them 
fall  fully  two  feet.  In  walking  they  come  to  the  edge  of  such  a 
place,  calmly  look  over,  indifFerently  give  their  shell  a  push  as 
far  as  possible  with  their  hind  legs,  and  then  with  one  or  two 
more  vigorous  pushes  thrust  themselves  over,  to  fall  upon  this 
plastron  extension.  If  it  were  not  there  the  head  and  neck  would 
most  certainly  be  injured.  At  the  rear  of  the  plastron  the  bone 
is  curved  in  to  allow  room  for  the  tail  and  anal  vent. 

For  a  few  weeks  I  had  four  of  these  desert  tortoises  on  a 
lawn  in  Pasadena,  and  spent  many  hours  watching  them.  Occa- 
sionally I  would  bring  the  large  one  into  my  library  for  study, 


198  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

and  he  would  wander  about,  peering  at  everything  on  his  level 
with  the  greatest  apparent  curiosity. 

While  walking  the  flies  often  settled  on  his  nose  and  bothered 
him  considerably.  It  was  quite  amusing  to  see  the  comical 
fashion  in  which  he  would  stop  and,  twisting  his  nose  toward 
his  awkward  elbow,  give  his  nose  a  rub,  straighten  out  and  pro- 
ceed. He  evidently  does  not  approve  of  the  flies  of  civilization, 
for,  while  it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  are  flies  on  the  deserts 
away  from  the  haunts  of  men,  it  can  safely  be  asserted  that  the 
proportion  is  as  one  to  a  million  in  favor  of  the  wild  places. 

When  I  tickle  him  between  his  neck 
and  legs  he  exhales  with  a  kind  of  half- 
grunt,  and  I  can  compare  the  noises  he 
makes  at  such  exhalations  to  nothing 
more  exact  than  the  inarticulate  "gug- 
gling" of  a  young  baby  when  content 
with  full  feeding. 
The  desert  tortoise  is  peculiar  in  that  he  has  no  teeth.  The 
lower  jaw  is  most  peculiarly  constructed.  The  whole  front  of 
the  jaw  is  of  bone,  with  a  slight  suggestion  of  notching.  At  the 
rear  of  this  exposed  part  inside  the  mouth  is  a  parallel  sharp 
ridge  of  bone  or  horn,  thus  forming  a  kind  of  groove  with  the  outer 
jaw  and  where  the  teeth  would  ordinarily  be  placed. 

As  far  as  I  have  seen  and  can  learn 
he  is  a  pure  vegetarian.     He  is  very        ^ss^as&a^^^x-a-t  d 

fond  of  the  leaves  and  young  shoots       ^^a^^^^^^^^^^rCcae^ 
of  many  of  the   desert    plants  that  ^  *•  ^*.^» 

are    thriving    at    this    time, —  after  Scorpion 

the  spring  rains.     All  those  I  have 
caught  have  their  jaws  stained  green  with  their  recent  feeding. 

Mr.  E.  T.  Cox,  writing  about  the  desert  tortoise  in  the  Ameri- 
can Naturalist,  says:  "In  preparing  this  specimen,  I  found  on 
each  side,  between  the  flesh  and  carapax  (the  upper  shell),  a 
large  membranous  sack  filled  with  clear  water;  I  judged  that 
about  a  pint  ran  out,  though  the  animal  had  been  some  days  in 
captivity  and  without  water  before  coming  into  my  possession. 
Here  then  is  the  secret  of  his  living  in  such  a  dry  region;  he  carries 
his  supply  of  water  in  two  tanks.      The  thirsty  traveler,  falling 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  199 

in  with  one  of  these  tortoises  and  aware  of  this  fact,  need  have 
no  fear  of  dying  for  immediate  want  of  water." 

As  yet  I  have  not  brought  myself  to  the  slaughter  of  one  of 
these  creatures,  and  the  men  of  the  desert  who  say  they  eat  tor- 
toises have  been  able  to  give  me  no  information  as  to  the  facts 
stated  by  Mr.  Cox. 

I  have  spoken  to  teamsters  and  miners  who  have  often  caught 
the  desert  tortoise,  and  they  agree  that  they  must  have  an  extra 
water  supply.  But  their  observations  necessarily  were  cursorily 
made,  and  I  have  not  met  with  one  who  has  dissected  the  tortoise. 
They  invariably  speak  of  the  fact  that  when  first  picked  up  they 
evacuate  to  the  amount  of  two  or  three  large  tablespoonfuls  of 
clear  liquid,  which,  however,  they  regard  as  an  incontinence  of 
urine  caused  either  through  anger  or  fear. 

The  desert  tortoise  is  good  for  food,  especially  the  flesh  of  his 
four  legs.     When  put  in  hot  water  the  scales  peel  completely  ofF, 
and  a  rich,  delicate  flavored  meat  is  left  which 
epicures  claim  is  most  delicious.  ^    Centipede 

At  one  camp  we  stopped  at,  on  one  of  our        235 
trips,  the  owner  told  us  of  his  first  experience  <"fe^F???f?ffes 

in  eating  the  desert  tortoise.  Said  he:  "I  had 
a  Mexican,  Carlos  Diablo,  working  for  me.  Once  he  spoke 
enthusiastically  of  the  wonderful  feasts  he  used  to  have  on  'tor- 
tugas.'  ,1  paid  little  or  no  attention  to  him  as  I  thought  he  re- 
ferred to  the  tortugas  —  turtles  or  tortoises  —  of  Florida  or 
Mexico,  in  both  of  which  countries  he  had  been.  It  turned  out 
later  that  he  meant  our  desert  turtle,  and  my  curiosity  being 
aroused,  I  told  him  I  should  like  to  see  how  it  tasted.  Not  long 
after  he  caught  a  fine  large  turtle,  and  after  he  had  killed  it  and 
completed  the  hard  task  of  removing  the  shell  and  skin,  he 
boiled  the  flesh  during  a  whole  night,  seasoning  it  with  salt,  red 
pepper,  and  garlic.  It  was  delicious,  and  I  only  wish  I  could 
serve  you  some  now  that  you  might  see  what  fine  food  the  desert 
provides." 

My  four  specimens  are  now  in  the  Bronx  Zoological  Park,  New 
York,  where  I  was  compelled  to  send  them,  as  my  many  absences 
from  home  render  it  impossible  for  me  to  keep  them. 

There  are  scores  of  red  ant-hills  on  the  desert,  appearing  like 


200  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

small  craters  rising  from  the  sand  or  gravel.  Many  of  them  are 
perfectly  formed  as  to  shape,  and  a  few  have  the  peculiar  color 
and  granulated  appearance  as  if  made  of  grape  nuts.  The 
material  of  which  the  "crater"  is  made  is  slowly  and  laboriously 
brought  up  from  under  ground  by  the  ants.  They  are  indefat- 
igable miners  and  this  is  their  waste  pile.  But  they  are  not 
mining  for  the  discovery  or  exploitation  of  minerals  or  any  sub- 
stance they  find  beneath  the  ground. 
They  are  merely  excavating  for  a  home 
(C  ^^**  and  storehouses.  This  work  is  gen- 
erally   done    in    the    early   morning. 

1  CLYQ.'Yltl/tLCL 

Foraging  on  the  outside  comes  later  in 
the  day.  They  come  through  the  vent  with  a  piece  of  stone  in 
their  antennae  with  which  they  slowly  climb  up  the  side  of  the 
crater.  A  few  conscientious  workers  carry  their  pieces  to  the 
top  where  they  "dump"  them  to  roll  down  on  the  outside. 
Others  just  find  the  nearest  and  most  convenient  spot,  drop  their 
burden  and  return  for  more. 

The  largest  caterpillar  I  ever  found  on  the  desert  was  in  April, 
1906.  He  was  on  the  stem  of  a  plant  which  I  failed  to  note 
and  was  fully  two  inches  long.  He  had  three  pairs  of  legs  very 
close  together  at  his  head,  four  pairs  at  regular  intervals  on  his 
body,  and  one  at  his  tail  end,  above  which  a  brownish  speckled 
horn,  nearly  half  an  inch  long,  was  exalted.  His  body  was 
striped  green  down  the  center,  with  a  black  stripe  on  each  side 
of  this,  followed  by  a  narrow  green  strip  and  a  narrow  black 
strip.  Then  there  came  a  broad  strip  of 
green,  and  at  the  junction  of  sides  and 
belly  a  slight  strip  of  spotted  red  and  black. 
There  were  touches  of  red  at  regular  in- 

1  (XT  (lilt  It  id 

tervals  on  the  upper  black  stripes. 

Though  as  a  rule  there  are  few  mosquitoes  on  the  desert  there 
are  times  when  they  come  in  swarms.  In  the  year  1900,  in  June, 
not  far  from  Imperial  Junction  there  seemed  to  be  a  breeding 
place  for  them.  Their  numbers  were  countless  and  they  made 
sleep  at  night  impossible.  The  same  year  and  at  the  same  time, 
or  a  few  days  later,  a  few  miles  from  Yuma,  near  the  Colorado 
River,  they  made  life  a  burden.     Constant  smudging,  day  and 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  201 

night,  was  necessary.  A  work  train  was  sent  to  do  some  special 
work  on  the  railway,  and  at  times  the  workmen  were  so  dis- 
tressed that  they  grew  frantic  and  threatened  to  quit  work  to  a 
man  unless  they  were  given  a  few  hours'  release.  To  accord  them 
a  little  rest  the  train  was  brought  up  to  Ogilby  and  then  provision 
made  for  keeping  smudges  going  during  the  rest  of  the  time  the 
work  was  progressing. 

The  tarantula  {My gale  avicularia)  is  occasionally  seen  on  the 
desert.  It  is  nothing  but  a  large,  hairy,  overgrown  spider. 
There  are  two  or  three  different  species,  but  except  to  the  en- 
tomologist the  differences  seem  slight.  They  belong  to  the  trap- 
door spider  family. 

The  great  foe  to  the  tarantula  is  a  hornet  or  wasp-like  insect 
called  the  tarantula  hawk  (Pompiltus  formosus).  The  female, 
when  ready  to  lay  her  eggs,  flies  eagerly 
about  looking  for  a  tarantula.  As  soon 
as  she  sees  the  great,  hairy-bodied  spider, 
she  alights  upon  it  and  with  the  speed  of 
a  flash  of  lightning  darts  her  sting  into  it. 
There  must  be  some  preservative  quality 
in  the  poison  she  injects,  for,  while  the  in- 
sect  dies,   its   body  does  not  decompose 

T     •  1  arantula 

nor  dry  out.     It  has  not  yet  served  its 

purpose.  Digging  a  hole  some  five  inches  deep  the  hawk  now 
rolls  the  body  of  the  tarantula  into  it,  and  deposits  her  eggs 
either  in  or  on  the  body.  She  now  closes  up  the  nest.  When 
the  larvae  leave  the  egg  they  find  themselves  supplied  with  food 
enough  to  last  until  they  are  fully  grown.  All  the  transforma- 
tions occur  in  the  underground  nest,  and  finally  the  adult  insect 
emerges  after  reaching  its  perfect  stage. 

The  dinapate  is  one  of  the  largest  beetles  of  its  family  and  is 
also  one  of  the  rarest  in  the  world.  It  was  originally  found  by  an 
entomologist  named  W.  G.  W  right  in  the  wild  palms  of  the 
Colorado  Desert.  Year  after  year  he  visited  these  palms  and 
secured  as  many  beetles  as  he  could,  collectors  being  anxious  to 
obtain  them. 

In  January,  1886,  a  description  was  published  in  the  "Trans- 
actions of  the  American  Entomological  Society,"  by  Dr.  G.  H. 


202 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


Horn,  of  a  large  beetle,  larger  than  any  Bostrichide  known, 
which  was  said  to  have  been  found  on  the  Mohave  Desert.  It 
was  named  Dinapate  wrightii  after  its  finder.  Little  was  known 
of  its  habits  or  that  of  its  larvae,  as  no  one  but  Mr.  Wright  knew 
of  its  existence.  But  in  1897,  H.  G.  Hubbard,  one  of  the  most 
enthusiastic  entomologists  of  the  United  States,  started  out  on  a 
still  hunt  for  the  beetle  and  its  life  habits.  He  found  that  it 
was  not  an  inmate  of  the  Mohave  Desert,  but  of  the  Colorado, 
and  that  it  made  its  home  in  the  giant  fan-palms  indigenous 
there  (Neo  Washington! a  filifera).  For  over  a  month  Mr. 
Hubbard  climbed  up  and  down  the  steep  canyons  trying  to  find 
what  he  was  so  desirous  of  finding,  a  colony  of  the  larvae  of  this 
wonderful  beetle  in  one  of  the  palms.  His  searches  were  ulti- 
mately rewarded.  He  first  found 
a  dead  and  disintegrated  speci- 
men of  this  gigantic  Bostrychid 
beetle  lying  between  dead  fans 
at  the  foot  of  a  young  palm. 
Says  he:"Manyof  theold  palms 
are  uprooted  by  the  flood  wa- 
ters, and  I  saw  probably  fifty  of 
these  prostrate  trunks  upon  the 
ground.  Almost  all  of  them 
are  perforated  all  over  with  round  open  holes,  into  most  of 
Which  I  can  insert  the  end  of  my  thumb.  Some  of  the  holes 
will,  however,  only  admit  the  little  finger.  These  holes,  evi- 
dently made  by  dinapate  larvae,  open  directly  into  a  huge  pupa 
chamber  which  is  two  inches  long  and  lies  vertically  with  the 
grain  not  more  than  one  or  two  inches  from  the  surface." 

He  found  the  logs  showing  from  one  hundred  to  two  hundred 
and  fifty  holes  of  exit  of  the  larvae,  and  concluded  that  once  a 
log  is  vacated  by  a  colony  of  them  it  is  never  again  attacked,  for 
the  reason  that  all  its  nourishment  is  completely  eaten  out. 

The  female  cuts  into  the  trunk  of  these  giant  palms  and  there 
deposits  her  eggs.  When  it  is  remembered  that  the  fan  leaves 
falling  around  the  trunk  make  a  covering  from  eight  to  ten  feet 
thick,  it  can  be  seen  what  a  great  borer  the  beetle  must  be  to 
cut  its  way  through  into  the  trunk.     No  living  tree  is  ever  sup- 


Tarantula  hawk 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert  203 

posed  to  be  attacked  by  them,  though  it  has  been  suspected  that 
the  dinapate  herself  kills  the  tree  in  order  to  make  a  home  for 
her  eggs.  On  this  matter  Mr.  Hubbard  writes:  "When  I  con- 
sider the  limited  number  of  these  trees  (palms)  in  existence  in  a 
wild  state,  and  the  slender  chance  the  female  beetle  must  have 
of  finding  a  dying  tree  in  the  right  condition  and  at  the  right 
time,  I  am  more  than  ever  inclined  to  suspect  that  the  beetles 
deliberately  kill  the  tree  in  which  they  oviposit.  If  they  killed 
the  tree  merely  by  feeding  as  adults  upon  the  buds  there  would 
be  many  trees  killed,  for  often  more  than  two  hundred  adults 
issue  from  a  single  infested  trunk." 

The  larvae  remain  in  the  trunk  one,  two,  or  possibly  three 
years    ere    they  emerge   as   full-grown    beetles,   and   during  this 
time  they  tunnel  the  palm  into  a  series  of  galleries  in  a  truly 
marvelous    fashion.     "  It   is   hard    to 
realize  the   enormous  extent   and  di- 
mensions of  the  dinapate    galleries," 
says   Hubbard.     "Not  the  largest  of 

our   Florida  palmettos  could   support 

,1.1  r  r^u        i  The  Dinapate  wrishtii, 

more  than  three  or  lour  oi  these  larvae;       .,    ,         ,    ■*,,    ,       3  .    !, 

.  the  Large  beetle  found  in  the 

they  would  eat  it  all  up  and  then  die  desert  palms 

of  starvation.     If  there  are  twenty  or 

thirty  holes  in  one  of  the  Washingtonia  palms,  one  finds  the  interior 
entirely  eaten  out  from  end  to  end,  and  one  can  follow  the  galleries, 
over  one  inch  in  diameter,  for  twenty  feet  up  and  down  the  trunk 
following  the  grain  and  without  diminishing  sensibly  in  diameter. 
Then  think  of  the  yards  and  yards  of  smaller  galleries  made  by 
the  larvae  while  still  young.  Such  extensive  and  prodigious  bor- 
ings cannot  be  made  in  one  or  two  years,  and  certainly  not  in 
any  tree  trunk  of  moderate  size.  There  is  certainly  no  other 
plant  here  than  this  Washingtonia  palm  that  is  capable  of  sup- 
porting a  brood  of  these  huge  and  voracious  grubs.  Therefore 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  assert  that  they  exist  only  in  the  Washing- 
tonia, and  that  they  are  very  certain  soon  to  become  extinct. 
I  regard  the  discovery  of  a  colony  as  one  of  the  most  interesting 
entomological  events  of  my  life." 

He  took  four  pieces  of  the  trunk,  containing  the  larvae,  into 
his  bedroom  and  during  the  night  enjoyed  hearing  them  cut  the 


204  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

fiber  with  a  snap  like  a  pair  of  scissors.  In  June  these  pieces 
were  sent  to  Washington  and  in  August  a  small  number  of  the 
beetles  were  bred  from  the  wood.  This  was  a  matter  for  great 
rejoicing.  Mr.  Eytel's  drawing  is  from  a  photograph  of  one  of 
these  bred  specimens. 

Mr.  Wright's  operations  in  the  first  instance  were  carried  on 
with  great  stealth.  He  did  not  want  others  to  know  of  his  find. 
In  his  eagerness  to  get  the  rare  beetles  he  cut  down  a  number 
of  the  palms,  but  as  they  were  already  dead  this  was  not  a  serious 
injury.  When  the  holes  were  seen  by  the  people  at  Palm  Springs 
they  deemed  them  made  by  carpenter-bees. 

The  dinapate  has  been  called  the  dodo  of  beetles,  both  on 
account  of  its  size  and  also  that  it  is  supposed  to  be  almost  ex- 
tinct. It  is  a  large  black  beetle,  fully  an  inch  in  length,  the 
female  being  larger  than  the  male.  It  has  a  strong  frontal  plate 
and  the  great  jaws  of  the  pupae  are  wonderfully  adapted  for  the 
work  of  cutting  their  way  through  the  fibrous  part  of  the  palm 
in  their  search  for  food. 

The  entomologist  will  find  the  Colorado  Desert  a  rich  field. 
It  has  never  yet  been  fully  explored,  and  new  species  are 
pretty  sure  to  reward  the  man  who  is  willing  to  make  the  desert 
his  abiding  place  for  a  while  and  penetrate,  as  does  the  pros- 
pector, into  its  secret  recesses.  Near  the  river  there  are  numbers 
of  a  fine  green  Buprestid  (Gyascutus  planicosta),  easily  caught  in 
the  early  morning  hours.  The  click-beetle  (Chalcolepidius 
webbii)  is  abundant  on  the  willows.  It  reaches  a  length  of  nearly 
an  inch  and  a  half,  and  is  bluish  in  color  with  a  broad  cream- 
colored  border.  To  merely  mention  the  desert  species  would 
fill  several  pages,  and  while,  of  course,  many  of  them  are  to  be 
found  elsewhere,  those  that  appear  on  the  desert  are  often  mod- 
ified by  the  peculiar  conditions  that  exist  there. 

One  interesting  feature  of  the  desert  insects  is  that  during  a 
dry  year  the  eggs  and  pupae  will  be  in  a  dormant  state.  Or,  at 
least,  this  is  the  supposition  of  entomologists  most  familiar  with 
desert  conditions.  Either  this  is  the  case  or  the  beetles  that  reach 
a  mature  condition  are  so  few  as  not  to  be  seen.  Experiments 
have  confirmed  the  former  view,  for  eggs  and  pupae  have  been 
submitted  to  adverse  conditions  and  it  was  found  that  this  arrested 


Reptiles  and  Insects  of  the  Desert 


205 


their  development.  The  fertility  of  the  eggs  was  not  impaired, 
and  the  following  season,  when  favorable  conditions  existed,  full 
development  followed. 

The  best  time  by  far  for  the  entomologist  on  the  desert  is  during 
or  immediately  after  a  long  wet  season.  These  seasons  rarely 
occur,  but  when  they  do  an  abundance  of  rare  objects  is  sure 
to  appear.  Not  only  an  abundance  in  the  variety,  but  also,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  dinapate,  an  abundance  of  one  particularly  rare 
species. 


Dinapate 


Gila  monster 


206 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


207 


CHAPTER  XIV 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


CLASS  unto  themselves,  the  plants  of  the  desert 
are  set  apart.  Or  at  least  that  is  what  they 
seem  when  you  make  your  first  cursory  survey. 
Extended  observation,  however,  demonstrates 
that,  while  there  are  marked  desert  features  in 
many  plants  known  elsewhere,  and  quite  a 
number  that  are  confined  to  the  desert,  there 
is  not  as  much  difference,  after  all,  between  the 
flora  of  the  desert  and  that  of  the  more  fertile 
areas.  It  is  the  conditions  that  make  the  differ- 
ences. Plants,  even  as  animals  and  man,  find 
life  a  hard  struggle  upon  the  desert,  and  jet, 
with  a  picture  in  my  mind's  eye  of  the  rich 
and  glorious  beauty  of  the  flowers  as  we  found 
them  in  various  almost  unknown  desert  valleys 
in  March  ("1906),  where  they  flourished  in  lux- 
urious abundance  and  marvelous  varietv,  such 
words  seem  utter  nonsense.  But  one  might 
travel  on  the  desert  for  years  and  not  see  such 
a  display.  In  twenty-five  years  of  winter  and 
summer  experiences,  this  was  the  first  time  I 
had  been  so  privileged.  The  facts  are,  that  to 
most  plants  the  fierce  heat  and  the  lack  ol 
moisture  render  growth  most  difficult,  and  that, 


208 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


except  when  freshened  up  and  brightened  by  the  rains,  most  of 
the  trees  and  bushes  have  a  bleached,  blonde,  bloodless  appear- 
ance that  adds  to  the  neutral,  colorless  effects  of  the  floor  of  the 
desert. 

Seen  when  rain  has  been  scarce  even  scientific  observers  come 
away  railing  at  the  scarcity  of  plant  life,  and  the  almost  waste  of 
time  their  search  has  proved  to  be. 

Dr.  John  L.  Le  Conte,  of  the  California  State  University,  who 
visited  the  desert  in  1850,  was  not  impressed  by  what  he  saw. 
He  says  the  only  resources  to  shorten  the  way  were  very  limited 
geology,  and,  as  may  be  inferred  from  the  nature  of  the  country, 
"equally  poor  botany.     It  is  no  wonder  that  government  reports 

abound  with  names  of  plants 
which  suggest  nothing  but  lin- 
guistic difficulties,  for  there  is 
little  else  in  the  vast  deserts  to 
occupy  the  attention  of  the  in- 
telligent traveler;  and  with  the 
determination  of  one  resolved 
to  struggle  with  the  dull  sub- 
limity of  inorganic  matter,  he 
frequently  breaks  off  and  pre- 
serves a  piece  of  some  hideous 
vegetable,  whose  only  charms 
are  the  ugliness  of  its  form,  the 
lifelessness  of  its  color,  and  the  apparent  absence  of  flower  and 
foliage  and  everything  else  that  renders  a  plant  attractive." 

There  are  times  when  these  severe  strictures  upon  the  floral 
presentations  of  the  desert  seem  to  be  deserved.  At  others  they 
would  appear  to  the  most  casual  observer  to  be  unmitigated  un- 
truths and  impossible  slanders. 

This  fact  cannot  be  too  strongly  impressed  both  upon  my 
readers  and  desert  visitants.  It  is  a  place  of  contrasts,  marked  and 
vivid.  Plant  life  is  no  exception  to  the  general  rule.  One  year, 
one  month  in  the  year  it  dazzles,  startles,  delights,  enchants  with 
the  reckless  variety  and  profuse  gorgeousness  of  its  floral  display, 
and  then  eleven  years,  or  eleven  months  (speaking  figuratively), 
it  would  nearer  fit  Dr.  Le  Conte's  depreciative  view. 


Wild 

heliotrope 


(Phacelia 
aa  nacetefolia) 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


209 


These  very  facts  are  one  of  the  desert's  allurements.  If  in 
your  association  with  some  person  you  know  there  is  a  possi- 
bility that  you  will  strike  him  at  a  time  when  he  will  far 
transcend  ordinary  mankind  in  the  brilliancy  and  charm  of  his 
conversation,  you  will  be  willing  to  undergo  considerable  bore- 
dom to  catch  those  rare  flashes  of  genius  and  mental  glory.  So 
with  the  desert.  And  yet  I  wish  also  to  assert  in  the  most  forceful 
manner,  that  if  one  can  go  to  the  desert  in  the  receptive  spirit  at 
any  time,  he  will  find  the  plant  life  of  the  most  restrained  period 
of  growth  more  than  interesting;.  It  is  fascinating.  The  cactuses 
alone  are  a  most  fascinating  study, 
and  when  to  these  are  added   the  pe-  aMflfr  ifrj& 


culiar    desert    trees    and    plants,    the      tfkflj 
botanist    has    a    field  rich,    rare,    and    ^Qs^ 
delightful. 

Plant  life  on  the  desert  has  a  won- 
derful vitality,  or  Nature  has  a  mar- 
velous way  of  caring  for  it,  for  after 
a  rain  the  flowers  spring  up  in  a 
profusion  and  variety  that  are  as 
bewildering  as  they  are  delightful. 
Here  are  flowers  that  one  seldom 
sees;  not  a  few;  nor  are  they  poor 
specimens,  but  in  great  quantities,  and 
full  grown.  One  drives  over  mile 
after  mile  of  them,  fascinated  and 
entranced.  They  are  worthy  children 
of  noble  sires.     Whence  came  they  ? 

Are  they  natural  products  of  the  desert  ?  I  scarcely  think 
so!  It  seems  to  me  it  is  far  more  likely  that  they  have  been  pre- 
served from  some  far-away,  long-passed  epoch  of  Time,  when 
the  desert  was  more  hospitable  and  kind  to  flower  and  animal. 
As  the  climatic  and  other  changes  have  come  the  seeds  have  been 
preserved  in  the  earth,  lying  dormant  perhaps  for  long  decades, 
or  even  centuries,  deep  below  the  surface.  Then  fierce  rains, 
cloudbursts,  floods  came  and  almost  uncovered  them,  leaving 
them  with  just  enough  of  protection  to  give  shelter  and  moisture, 
which,  in  the  heat  of  the  sun,  caused  germination.     Then  the  eye 

Vol.  I. -14 


"  Hen  and 

chickens ' ' 
(Cotyledon 

pulverii- 

lenta) 


210  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

of  the  solitary  desert  traveler  was  charmed  and  delighted  by  the 
new  floral  treasures  suddenly  called  forth  in  such  wealth  and 
profusion.  For  a  few  short  days  he  enjoys  them  to  the  full,  then 
they  die  down  and  are  not  seen  again,  perhaps,  for  several  years. 

It  is  wonderful  how  desert  plants  and  trees  reach  out  for  water. 
One  day  I  saw  exposed  what  appeared  to  be  an  insulated  tele- 
phone wire  of  a  deep  reddish  brown  color.  It  was  the  root  of  a 
bush  that  seemed  quite  dead  until  I  carefully  examined  it, 
and  then  you  saw  that  it  was  very  much  alive.  The  root  was  ex- 
posed by  a  winter  freshet,  and  as  I  pulled  it  I  dragged  out 
more  until  there  was  over  twenty  feet  of  it.  It  is  this  power  of 
reaching  out  for  water,  this  persistence  in  clinging  to  a  life  that 
seems  almost  hopeless,  that  give  one  such  an  admiration  for  the 
brave  struggles  of  these  desert  plants.  They  persist  in  living. 
They  are  unconscious  examples  of  the  strenuous  life.  They 
know,  or  at  least  seem  to  live  as  if  they  knew,  that  there  is  no 
attainment  without  constant  and  strong  endeavor. 

Then,  too,  what  a  difference  there  is  between  the  cultivated 
garden  and  the  natural  growth  of  flowers  in  the  desert!  In  the 
garden  everything  is  forced,  artificial,  conventional,  in  bonds. 
Every  flower  must  grow  where  it  is  set,  and  it  is  trained  and 
trimmed  and  tied  and  directed  into  a  stiff  primness  that  some 
people  regard  as  beauty,  but  that  a  large-minded  soul  cannot 
help  but  feel  is  a  torture  and  a  spoliation  of  the  real  life  of  the 
flower.  But  in  the  desert  all  is  free.  Liberty  is  supreme.  Every 
flower  grows  when,  where,  and  as  it  will;  and  there  is  a  spon- 
taneity, a  wild,  glad,  joyous  giving  apparent  in  every  flower  that 
grows,  as  if  it  were  conscious  of  the  fact  that  it  gives  of  its  sweetness 
and  beauty,  not  at  the  behest  of  a  gardener,  but  of  its  own  gracious 
will.  This  is  the  charm  of  the  flowers  we  see  and  enjoy  in  the 
desert  valleys. 

In  his  incomparable  prose-poem  "The  Desert,"  Dr.  John  C. 
Van  Dyke  says:  "Many  tales  are  told  of  the  flowers  that  grow 
on  the  waste  after  the  rains,  but  I  have  not  seen  them  though  I 
have  seen  the  rains."  How  I  wish  the  distinguished  writer  could 
have  been  with  me  on  the  trip  to  the  Brooklyn  mine  in  April, 
1906.  In  the  Crawford  Valley  (as  well  as  others)  the  desert  set 
forth  a  display  of  flowers  that  I  have  never  before  seen  equaled. 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


211 


I  have  been  at  flower  shows,  have  reveled  in  the  floral  treasures 
of  emperors,  kings,  queens,  and  nations,  have  been  entranced 
by  the  horticultural  glories  of  Kew  Gardens,  Kensington  Gardens, 
les  Jardins  des  Plantes,  and  the  great  displays  at  numbers  of 
World's  Fairs,  yet  I  speak  the  truth  with  calm  sobriety  when  I 
say  that  for  splendor  and  immensity  of  display,  everything  else 
seen  in  the  whole  of  my  life  put  together  was  not  to  be  compared 
with  this.  Possibly  the  San  Joaquin  plains,  as  described  by  John 
Muir  and  Madge  Morris,  in  the  early  days  before  many  white 
feet  with  their  "civilizing;"  destruction  of  nature's  glories  had 
trodden  upon  them,  may  have  been  equal  to  that  which  we  saw. 
Mile  after  mile,  straight  ahead,  be- 
hind us,  and  on  each  side,  were  car- 
peted with  flowers.  To  merely  name 
them  would  take  several  pages  of 
this  book,  and  to  give  adequate  de- 
scriptions would  need  a  volume.  Here 
were  phacelias,  rare  and  beautiful 
asters,  and  gilias  that  excited  the 
cupidity  of  expert  botanists  when 
their  eyes  fell  on  them;  thousands  of 
specimens  of  Mohavea  viscidia,  their 
primrose  leaves  dotted  with  reddish  Gum 
spots,  and  many  varieties  of  erigeron.  plant 
The  enotheras  were  marvelously  rep- 
resented, and,  as  in  the  flowers  of  the  cactus,  these  desert  speci- 
mens were  unusually  delicate  and  beautiful  in  coloring.  Lupines, 
borages,  kramerias,  mentzelias  —  but  why  merely  name  them  ? 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  hours  were  required  to  merely  go  over  the 
specimens  we  brought  home. 

In  their  growth  and  native  arrangement  they  often  delighted 
beyond  measure.  A  richly  green  creosote  bush  would  be  sur- 
rounded by  the  flowers  in  circular  beds,  but  devoid  of  the  rigidity 
of  division  that  ordinary  gardeners  seem  to  prize,  and  that  Nature 
ever  abhors.  First  there  would  be  a  circle  of  blue,  then  white, 
yellow,  pink,  white  and  yellow,  terminating  at  last  in  a  long  ap- 
proach of  a  rare  and  beautiful  gilia.  Sometimes  these  gilias  were 
white,  but  there  were  equal  numbers  of  pink,  and  yellow. 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


Altogether  the  picture  of  the  flowers  of  Pinto  Valley  has  made 
an  epoch  in  my  memory.  That  is  one  of  the  things  I  can  never 
forget. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  to  the  plant  life  some  of  the  healing 
virtues  of  the  desert  are  attributable.  The  air  is  often  redojent 
with  the  pungent  odors  extracted  by  the  fierce  sun  from  the  plants, 
which,  full  of  resinous  and  other  oily  substances,  render  them 
forth  only  on  such  strong  persuasion.  Being  thus  held  in  sus- 
pension in  the  atmosphere  that  closely  hugs  the  earth,  they 
constitute  of  it  a  specially  medicated  area  in  which  every  breath 
taken,   whether   through    mouth    or   nostrils,    penetrates   to   the 

bronchial  tubes  and  lungs  and 
deposits  there  the  tiny  particles 
of  healing  virtue.  Here  is  the  vis 
medicatrix  natures  at  its  best. 

Among  other  plants  one  here 
finds  the  wild  tobacco,  which  with 
its  large  long  leaves  and  rich 
yellow  blossoms  grows  profusely. 
It  is  common  to  find  it  six  feet 
high,  and  now  and  again  one  will 
see  a  clump  of  it  with  stalks  fif- 
teen and  even  twenty  feet  high. 
The  Mexicans  claim  that  it  is  not 
indigenous  to,  this  part  of  Califor- 
nia but  that  it  was  brought  here 
from  Mexico. 
The  quelite  is  a  large  species  of  chenopodium,  the  seeds  of 
which  the  Indians  have  long  used  in  making  a  rude  bread  which 
is  by  no  means  unpalatable.  In  the  days  of  early  emigration  to 
the  gold  country  this  plant  formed  the  chief  feed  of  the  horses 
and  cattle.  The  emigrants  called  it  "careless  weed"  from  an 
imperfect  hearing  or  rendition  of  the  Indian  name.  It  would 
better  be  spelled  kel-e-tey. 

Of  lichens  alone  the  desert  has  a  wonderful  assortment,  not, 
of  course,  in  the  actual  sandy  barren  areas,  but  in  the  oases  and 
on  the  mountain  slopes.  On  the  granite  and  other  rocks,  on 
the  earth,  among  the  mosses,  on  living  pines  and  oaks,  on  dead 


Desert  thistle  poppy 

(Argemone  platyceras) 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


213 


pine  wood  logs  and  branches,  fertile  in  some  places,  barren  in 
others  close  by,  these  modest  and  unobtrusive  members  of  the 
plant  family  grow. 

The  trees  of  the  desert  are  equally  as  interesting  as  the  flow- 
ers. There  is  not  a  large  variety,  but  each  one  has  its  own 
peculiar  attractiveness.  There  are  several  trees  that  immediately 
attract  the  attention  of  newcomers  to  the  desert,  and  that  grow 
upon  acquaintance.  These  are  the  honey-pod  mesquite  (the 
Algarobia  glandulosa  of  Torrey,  and  the  Prosopis  velutinea  of 
later  botanists);  the  screw-bean  mesquite  {Prosopis  pubescens), 
the  smoke  tree  {Dalea  spinosa),  the  desert  willow  (Chilopsis 
sahgna),  the  small-leaved  palo  verde  {Parkinsonia  microphylla), 


oj  old 
mesquites 


and  the  creosote  bush  (Larrea  mexicana).  In  various  canyons 
as  well  as  on  the  plain  near  Indio  the  fan-palm  (A7 eo-ivashingtonia 
filifera)  has  its  native  and  only  habitat,  this  palm  being  now 
determined  as  a  distinctively  Colorado  Desert  species. 

On  the  mountains  are  the  nut-pines,  Pinus  caulteri,  which 
produce  the  largest  cone  known.  It  abounds  on  Mount  San 
Jacinto.  Though  the  Saboba  and  Santa  Rosa  Indians  do  not  eat 
the  nuts  it  is  said  that  other  Indians  do,  but  of  this  I  am  not  sure. 
The  pinion  pine  (Pinus  monophxlla),  commonly  known  as  the 
Pinus  edulis,  is  found  on  many  of  the  mountain  slopes  and  is 
justly  esteemed  for  the  rich  flavor  of  its  nuts.  The  Mexican 
locust  tree  {Robinia  neo-mexicana)  is  also  found  on  the  desert. 

In  several  of  the  dry  washes  near  the  Chuckwalla   range  I 


214 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


found  specimens  of  the  cat's  claw   {Acacia  greggn,  Gray)  and  it 
is  seen  occasionally  as  far  west  as  Banning. 

In  some  of  the  valleys  the  principal  feature  of  vegetable  growth 
is  the  ocatilla  (Fouquiera  splendens).  This  peculiar  tree  is  a 
bunch  of  thorny  sticks  shooting  up  from  a  common  center,  each 
stick  evidently  trying  to  grow  up  straight  but,  being  compelled 
to  yield  room  to  its   fellows,   finally  compromising  on   a   slight 

angle.  Each  stalk  grows  inde- 
pendently of  all  others  and  at- 
tains its  own  individual  height. 
Some  are  very  straight,  others 
fall  over  almost  like  the  grace- 
ful palm,  and  still  others  have 
sudden  angles  and  strange  twists. 
Sometimes  the  very  tips,  after  the 
stem  has  grown  up  straight  to  a 
height  of  twelve,  fifteen,  and  even 
eighteen  feet,  droop  over  with  an 
air  of  dejection  which  seems  to 
say  the  battle  to  keep  straight  is 
too  hard.  Occasionally  they  at- 
tain a  height  of  twenty  feet.  I 
have  counted  one  hundred  and 
twenty  stems  on  one  ocatilla, 
though  few  have  so  many.  The 
general  appearance  of  the  tree  is 
as  if  a  handful  of  straight- 
stemmed  plants  had  been  put 
into  a  vase,  so  that,  while  at  the 
base  the  stems  were  kept  all 
together,  they  had  spread  outt  up  above,  in  every  direction.  I 
found  them  in  full  flower  at  the  end  of  March.  The  flower  is  a 
flaunting  panicle  of  a  brilliant  scarlet,  composed  of  beautiful 
bell-like  blossoms.  Sometimes,  when  looking  toward  the  sun, 
the  flower  appears  like  a  flaming  plumaged  paroquet  or  other 
brilliantly  feathered  bird  resting  on  the  end  of  the  limb. 

The  ocatilla  has  the  remarkable  habit  of  leafing  out  after  a 
rain.     The  leaves  are  a  tender  green  and  spring  out  along  the 


The 

mesquite 


Photo,  by  George  Wharton  James 


THE     OCATILLA     IX     LEAF 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


215 


stems,  side  by  side  with  the  thorns.  Even  though  it  be  but  a 
slight  rain  and  only  the  stems  (not  the  root)  get  wet,  the  leaves 
appear.  Padre  Junipero  Serra,  the  founder  of  the  California 
missions,  had  a  very  poor  idea  of  this  "candle  cactus,"  as  he 
called  it.  He  said  it  was  useless,  even  for  fire-wood.  Between 
Yuma  and  Pilot  Knob  there  are  quantities  of  them,  as  also  at  the 
upper  end  of  Crawford  Valley. 

A  noticeable  peculiaritv  of  such  desert  trees  as  the  mesquite, 
palo  verde,  and  desert  willow  is  that  they  are  seldom  so  tall  as 
the  same  species  elsewhere.  This  is  owing  to  the  intense  heat, 
causing  atrophy  of  the  growing  bud  of  the  upright  stem  of  the 
tree.  This  bud,  being  above 
the  rest  of  the  tree,  necessarily 
receives  the  direct,  full  ravs  of 
the  sun.  Unless  it  is  specially 
protected  —  as  some  of  the 
desert  plants,  are  —  it  becomes 
scorched  and  either  grows  very 
slowly  or  dies  and  falls  off. 
This  compels  the  outforcing  of 
lateral  buds,  an  instinct  of  na- 
ture to  protect  the  tree  from 
destruction.  These  lateral  buds 
grow  with  comparative  pro- 
fusion, consequently  the  tree 
gains  in  density  and  breadth 
what  it  loses   in    height.     The 

result  is  that  many  desert  trees  have  the  appearance  of  being 
stunted  or  dwarfed  in  height,  but  are  "stockv"  and  bulk}'  below. 

The  mesquite  is  a  fine  illustration  of  this,  for  it  is  no  uncom- 
mon thing  in  the  Coachella  Vallev  to  find  this  tree  with  branches 
outspreading  far  and  wide  from  the  ground  up.  Thev  appear 
as  if  some  great  weight  had  pressed  them  down,  and  like  truth 
they  had  risen  again,  vet  bearing  in  their  aspect  the  proof  of 
their  having  been  forced  down  to  the  earth. 

The  desert  palm,  however,  is  not  a  "croucher"  like  the  mes- 
quite. It  shoots  bravely  up  into  the  fiercelv  heated  atmosphere, 
for  it  loves  its  head  in  the  fire.     The  young  palms  always  have  a 


Ocatilla, 

or  the 

Devil's 

cha  ir 


216  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

mantle  of  drooping  dead  leaves  which  clothes  them  to  the  ground. 
Thus  the  tender  young  stem  is  protected  from  the  too  fierce 
heat  of  the  sun,  and  "the  mold  within  the  curtained  area  is  kept 
cool  and  moist  while  all  around  is  hard-baked  soil.  When  the 
tap-root  is  deep  down  to  water  level,  the  sheath  of  thatch  may  be 
burned  away  as  is  done  by  the  Indians"  to  render  the  fruit 
more  easily  gathered.  The  palm  is  an  endogen,  its  core  of  life 
in  the  heart  of  the  thick,  dense  mossy  bole.  So  even  after  these 
fires  the  trees  survive,  the  perfect  harmony  of  their  natural 
growth  unaltered,  their  glorious  crowns  of  vivid  green  still  trust- 
fully reaching  up  toward  the  sun  that  has  destroyed  every  other 
sprout  of  tender  verdure. 

The  screw  mesquite  is  a  more  beautiful  tree  than  the  bean 
mesquite,  its  narrow  outline  and  ascend- 
ant branches  giving  it  a  strikingly  differ- 
ent appearance  and  much  more  graceful 
figure. 

Almost  all  old  prospectors  and  desert 
dwellers  contend  that  the  coolest  and 
most  comfortable  shade  of  the  desert  is 
that  of  the  mesquite,  though  their  expla- 
nations  for  that   fact   often  vary  greatly. 

~,  ,  Probably    the    reason    is    that    the    deli- 

I  he  screw-bean  ■>  , 

mesquite  cately     divided     leaves     allow    a    perfect 

circulation  of  air  which  is  cooled  by  pass- 
ing over  the  countless  cool  surfaces  of  the  leaves,  at  the  same 
time  keeping  off  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun. 

The  mesquite  leaves  out  after  the  rains,  if  there  are  any,  or 
generally  about  the  end  of  March.  Its  tender  leaves  are  a  sweet 
soft  green  that  is  peculiarly  restful  to  the  eye  awearied  with  the 
long  stretches  of  gray  sand,  alkali-crusted  clays,  and  effloresced 
salt.  In  the  summer  the  darker  green  is  crowned  and  variegated 
here  and  there  with  patches  of  the  parasitic  mistletoe,  which, 
however  pernicious  in  its  influence  upon  the  tree,  certainly  has  a 
picturesque  effect  upon  its  color,  for  its  rich  Vandyke  brown  with 
a  tinge  of  reddish  gray  is  most  effective  and  agreeable. 

The  mistletoe  (Phoradendron)  is  a  common  feature  of  desert 
trees,  the  parasite  growing  so  abundantly  as  to  almost  hide  the 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


217 


leafage  and  growth  of  its  host.     Several  varieties  are  found  on 
the  desert. 

The  bean  mesquite  and  screw  mesquite  both  flower  from  April 
to  July,  while  the  cat's  claw  or  desert  acacia  {Acacia  greggii)  is  a 
month  later.  The  palo  verde  (Parkinsonia  torreyana)  generally 
blossoms  in  May,  but  I  have  seen  it  in  full  bloom  as  early  as  March. 

The  mesquite,  palo  verde,  ironwood  and  cottonwood  do  well 
under  cultivation,  the  two  former  being  especially  desirable  in 
this  desert  region.  As  a  decorative  and 
landscape  tree  there  is  nothing  superior 
to  the  mesquite  for  desert  regions.  They 
are  hardy  in  the  most  adverse  conditions, 
and  yet  can  stand  a  much  larger  supply 
of  water  than  they  ever  receive  in  their 
natural  condition.  For  wood  they  are  both 
useful  and  necessary.  During  the  past 
years  the  mesquite  regions  have  been  al- 
most denuded  of  this  valuable  tree,  and 
as  far  as  I  know  not  one  single  effort  has 
been  made  to  preserve  it.  If  this  course 
is  long  continued  people  on  the  desert  will 
suffer  as  those  elsewhere  have  done  who 
have  neglected  proper  and  natural  pre- 
cautions to  provide  for  a  continuance  of 
supply.  The  mesquite  grows  well  from 
seed,  needs  little  care,  and  in  eight  to  ten 
years  attains  full  size. 

Bee-keeping  can  profitably  be  carried  on  in  the  regions  where 
mesquites  abound.  It  is  found  that  an  ordinary  sized  tree,  one, 
say,  fifteen  feet  high  and  thirty  feet  in  diameter,  will  contain  as 
many  as  fifty  thousand  blossoms,  which  will  give  at  least  two  and 
one-third  pounds  of  honey.  Mesquite  honey  is  one  of  the  best 
that  finds  its  way  into  the  market,  being  of  pure  white  color,  rich 
in  sweetness,  and  of  delicious  flavor.  In  the  excessive  heat  and 
dryness  of  the  desert  the  honey  products  would  speedily  evapo- 
rate the  surplus  moisture  and  ripen,  a  natural  process  which 
enhances  its  keeping  quality.  It  also  increases  the  weight  some 
two  to  four  pounds  per  five-gallon  can. 


False  tidytips 
(Leptosyne  doiiglasri) 


218 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


The  arrow-weed,  which  is  very  common  on  the  desert,  is  also 
found  to  be  a  good  honey  plant,  making  a  rich  amber-colored 
honey,  which,  while  not  equal  to  mesquite  honey,  is  still  most 
palatable  and  finds  a  ready  market. 

The  flower  of  the  palo  verde  is  a  soft,  beautiful,  alluring  yellow. 
Every  point  becomes  a  flower,  and  each  seems  more  charming 
than  the  other.     Riding  along  in  a  deep-walled  canyon,  the  mind 

as  well  as  the  body 
oppressed  by  the 
heat  of  the  desert 
sun  and  the  height  of 
the  enclosing  walls, 
which  are  devoid  of 
every  vestige  of  ver- 
dure, you  suddenly 
come  upon  a  side 
wash  or  c  a  nyon 
where  there  is  soil 
and  moisture  enough 
to  give  nourishment 
to  this  interesting 
and  singular  tree.  It 
has  blossomed  from 
top  to  bottom  and  all 
around.  It  is  a 
vision  of  loveli- 
ness all  the  more 
startling  that  it 
is  so  unexpected. 
Green  and  yel- 
low, blended  and  blending  in  such  soft,  sweet  shades,  you  cannot 
keep  from  the  reflection  that  God  must  love  beauty  for  its  own 
and  His  own  sake,  for  here  is  this  desert  glory  wasting  the 
sweetness  of  its  beauty  on  the  desert. 

The  dalea  spinosa  is  often  called  by  the  prospectors  the  smoke 
tree.  It  is  seen  nowhere  else  than  on  the  desert.  There  are 
several  varieties  of  dalea,  but  they  are  all  desert  habitants.  Its 
leaves  are  a  kind  of  spine,  which,  however,  look  like  foliage  at  a 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


219 


distance.  With  its  gray  limbs  and  delicate  sage-green  spiculae  it 
appears,  when  seen  at  a  short  distance,  not  unlike  a  filmy,  wind- 
blown, smoke  cloud,  ascending  from  some  strange  and  deserted 
camp-fire,  with  white  streaks  of  sunlight  darting  through  it.  But 
beware  how  you  allow  its  peculiar  beauty  to  allure  you  to  ap- 
proach it  too  nearly  and  too  carelessly.  For  if  you  do  you  will 
soon  discover  why  it  is  also  called  by  the  miners  and  teamsters 
"the  porcupine  tree." 

When  flowering  the  dalea  spinosa  is  a  most  gorgeous  and  glow- 
ing spectacle.  Every  point  blossoms  into  flower,  and  every 
flower  is  a  treasure  of  deep  purple.  Imagine 
a  tree  covered  with  fifty  to  a  hundred  thousand 
of  these  blossoms,  bathed  in  the  pure,  lumi- 
nous desert  atmosphere,  and  made  glowing 
and  resplendent  in  the  desert  sun.  It  is  a 
spectacle  of  royal  purple  that  the  eyes  of  man, 
unfamiliar  with  the  desert,  have  never  gazed 
upon,  —  a  spectacle  of  color  that  would  have 
dazzled  the  eyes  of  those  used  to  the  royal 
purple  of  the  great  Solomon  when  he  and  his 
spouse  ascended  the  throne,  aye,  even  had  he 
and  his  whole  court  been  robed  in  the  tran- 
scendent richness  of  the  Tyrian  purple. 

Greasewood  of  many  kinds  {Atriplex)  is 
found  on  the  desert.  Like  the  creosote  bush 
it  is  ubiquitous.  Though  at  first  it  looks 
"bloodless"  and  uninteresting,  it  becomes 
vested  with  its  own  charm  when  one  understands  its  difficulties, 
its  habits  of  growth,  and  its  desert  triumphs. 

It  is  one  of  the  atriplexes  —  the  black  salt-bush  —  that  the 
Indians  of  Martinez  use  for  coloring  the  splints  of  their  basketry 
black.  Their  name  for  it  is  gnah-yil.  They  boil  the  plant  and 
squeeze  out  the  juice,  and  in  the  liquor,  in  which  they  allow  the 
stalks  to  remain  mixed  with  ashes,  they  soak  their  splints  for 
about  a  week.  The  black  is  not  as  deep  and  perfect  as  the  natural 
black  of  the  martynia,  but  it  is  effective  and  permanent. 

The  white  salt-bush  is  very  common  in  various  parts  of  the  desert, 
and  in  Mesquite  Land  grows  to  a  great  height.     I  have  seen  in- 


Sunshine 
(Baeria  gracilos) 


220 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


dividual  bushes  fully  twenty  feet  high.  In  Santa  Barbara  this 
beautiful  plant  is  cultivated  for  hedges.  Trimmed  and  pruned, 
it  looks  far  better  than  most  hedge  growths,  and  it  adds  quite 
a  novel  factor  of  beauty  to  that  always  beautiful  town  of  the 
Virgin  Saint.  This  is  not  exactly  the  same  species  as  that  found 
on  the  desert,  but  it  appears  very  similar,  and  is  a  "beach" 
sister  of  its  desert  brother. 

Some  kinds  of  greasewood  and  palo  verde  are  used  by  animals 
as  "browse"  when  other  forage  is  short.  Looking  at  them,  the 
uninformed  observer  would  declare  that  there  can  be  no  nutrition 

in  them,  yet  analysis  shows  that  they 
are  rich  in  protein,  fats,  and  carbo- 
vv    ,-      -  hydrates.       Indeed,    some    grease- 

/^MtjlM' ,  '^yQ  W/lljfJ2-  woods  are    said    to    contain    more 

protein  than  alfalfa. 

The  creosote  bush  {Larrea  tri- 
denta)  is  one  of  the  commonest  of 
the  desert  plants.  It  is  singular 
how  different  people  regard  it.  By 
some  it  is  liked  both  in  appearance 
and  odor,  and  others  disparage  it 
in  every  way.  Dr.  Asa  Gray  says  it 
is  "so  vile  in  odor  that  even  mules 
will  not  eat  it,"  and  I  think  to  most 
people  it  is  objectionable.  But  Fre- 
mont says  :  "  Its  leaves  are  small, 
covered  with  a  resinous  substance  ; 
and,  particularly  when  bruised  and  crushed,  exhale  a  singular  but 
very  agreeable  and  refreshing  odor. "  Mr.  Eytel  agrees  with  Dr. 
Gray,  while  I  find  the  odor  affects  me  as  it  did  Fremont.  Its  leaves 
are  of  rich  olive-green,  and  its  flowers  are  a  delicate  yellow,  coming 
out  of  a  green  calyx,  and  with  separate  seed-pods  tufted  like  a  tiny 
bunch  of  cotton.  It  grows  as  high  as  ten  and  fifteen  feet,  though 
its  average  is  perhaps  not  more  than  eight  or  nine  feet,  and  in  form, 
in  pliancy  of  its  branches,  in  the  richness  of  its  color,  in  the  shape 
of  its  leaves,  as  well  as  in  its  yellow  flowers  and  white  cottony  tufts, 
it  constitutes  a  singularly  graceful  bush.  Indeed,  to  me,  there  are 
few  of  our  garden  shrubs  that  surpass  it  in  general  effect. 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert  22 1 

The  desert  willow  (Chilopsis  seligna)  has  somewhat  the  appear- 
ance of  the  catalpa.  It  flowers  beautifully  after  the  winter  rains, 
a  delicate  white,  with  purple  and  pink  tintings  of  color  in  a  bell- 
like blossom.  It  is  fairly  abundant  in  the  canyons  on  the  north- 
east of  the  Salton  Basin. 

While  to  the  ordinary  eye  there  are  not  many  varieties  of  cactus, 
it  is  possible  that  the  scientists  have  discovered  in  the  American 
Southwest  pretty  well  on  to  a  thousand  different  species. 

I  once  asked  an  old  Colorado  Desert  prospector  how  many 
varieties  of  cactus  he  was  familiar  with.  "By  gosh,"  said  he, 
"you  city  fellers  have  no  idea  how  many  kinds  we  got.  I  know 
every  one  of  'em.  There's  the  'full  of  stickers,'  'all  stickers,' 
'never-fail  stickers,'  'stick  everybody,'  'the  stick  and  stay  in,' 
'the  sharp  stickers,'  'the  extra  sharp  stickers,'  'big  stickers,' 
'little  stickers,'  'big  and  little  stickers,'  'stick  while  you  sleep,' 
'stick  while  you  wait,'  'stick  'em  alive,'  'stick  'em  dead,'  'stick 
unexpectedly,'  'stick  anyhow,'  'stick  through  leather,'  'stick 
through  anything,'  'the  stick  in  and  never  come  out,'  'the  stick 
and  fester  cactus,'  'the  cat's  claws  cactus,'  'the  barbed  fish-hook 
cactus,'  'the  rattlesnake's  fang  cactus,'  'the  stick  seven  wTays  at 
once  cactus,'  'the  impartial  sticker,'  'the  democratic  sticker,' 
'the  deep  sticker,'  and  a  few  others." 

I  am  not  scientist  enough  to  pass  judgment  upon  the  accuracy 
of  the  old  prospector's  classification,  but  to  my  layman-like  mind 
he  seems  to  have  been  pretty  successful  in  his  endeavors  to  tabu- 
late them  all. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  different  species  of  cactus  are  found 
on  both  sides  of  the  mountain  ranges  that  separate  the  desert 
from  the  coast.  The  species  are  much  alike,  yet  clearly  distinct, 
and  are  not  known  to  cross  the  range.  This  applies  to  the  echino- 
cactus,  the  opuntia,  the  mamillaria,  and  the  cereus. 

Dr.  Veatch,  who  was  one  of  the  earliest  of  scientists  to  visit 
the  mud  volcanoes  of  the  desert,  had  quite  an  experience  among 
the  cactuses,  as  he  journeyed  over  the  San  Felipe  Pass.  His 
horse  became  irritated  or  frightened  and  began  to  plunge,  so  he 
threw  himself  off,  and  in  the  struggle  that  ensued,  as  the  horse 
tried  to  get  away,  the  doctor  was  dragged  and  shoved  alternately 
amongst  opuntias  higher  than  his  head,  until  his  clothes,  to  use 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


his   own   expression,   "were   literally   pinned   to   the   flesh   from 
head  to   foot   by  the  barbed  needle-like  prickles." 

Cactuses  thrive  on  the  desert  as  if  specially  guarded.  Here 
are  the  tiny  mamillaria  in  several  varieties,  though  one  has  to 
hunt  for  them.  But  how  well  such  a  hunt  is  repaid!  Small, 
armored,  armed  balls,  they  have  tufts  of  flowers  of  super- 
earthly  beauty  and  of  tints  and  colors  not  surpassed  by  any 
flowers  of  earth.  I  have  found  the  Mamillaria  echinus,  with  its 
plum-like  buds  out  of  which  the  dainty  flowerets  burst;  the  M . 
macromeris,  with  its  long  spines  and  floral  crown  of  feather-like 
petals;  the  bunchy  M.  radios  a,  with  its  starlike 
clusters  of  spines  and  its  lanceolate  petals;  the 
M.  phellos perma  and  M.  grahami  and  several 
other  species. 

The  Marnillaria  grahami  is  a  most  beautiful 
specimen  of  a  desert  plant.  It  grows  not  far 
from  the  Colorado  River.  Each  bunch  of  spines 
has  one,  two,  or  three  central  spines,  the  chief 
one  of  which  is  generally  hooked  at  the  end. 
The  flower  is  an  exquisite  and  dainty  blossom 
of  a  tender  rose  color.  It  was  named  for  Colonel 
Graham  of  the  U.  S.  Corps  of  Topographical 
Engineers  whose  unfortunate  quarrel  with  Bart- 
lett  led  to  his  withdrawal  from  the  work  of  the 
Mexican  Boundary  Commission. 

Here,  too,  are  the  opuntias,  especially  the 
0.  basilaris  with  its  look  of  velvety  softness. 
But  beware  how  you  touch  it.  In  a  moment 
a  million  (more  or  less)  of  microscopic  thorns  have  pierced 
your  flesh,  and  sometimes  they  do  not  come  out  until  after 
they  have  festered.  One  sees  also  with  delight  a  number  of 
echinoc actus,  and  is  charmed  into  excited  runnings  to  and  fro 
as  new  and  more  beautiful  specimens  in  flower  appear.  There 
are  scores  of  the  most  conspicuous  of  the  species,  the  glorious 
E.  lecontei,  named  after  the  former  president  of  the  State  Uni- 
versity of  California,  who  discovered  it.  It  is  the  well-known 
"barrel  cactus,"  so  useful  to  travelers  on  the  Colorado  Desert, 
and  I  have  found  it  in  the  tributary  canyons  of  the  Grand  Canyon, 


Pentachaeta 
aurea 


mmsr^s 


^ 


<3 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


223 


in  Northern  Arizona.  It  is  also  found  in  Lower  California  below 
the  mouth  of  the  Colorado  River.  The  Mexicans  call  it  "bis- 
nagna,"  and  they  and  the  Indians  often  use  its  water  storage 
when  traveling  across  the  desert.  The  mode  of  obtaining  the 
water,  which,  of  course,  is  the  juicy  pulp  of  the  plant,  is  very 
simple  if  one  has  an  axe,  hatchet,  or  large  hunting-knife.  Cut- 
ting off  the  top  of  the  barrel,  the  pulp  inside  is  crushed  with  a  stick 
or  the  axe-handle,  thus  releasing  from  the  cells  of  the  inner  tissue 
the  copious  flowof  juice  therein  stored.  The  tough  and  water-tight 
coating  of  the  plant  makes  a  perfect  reser- 
voir, and  I  have  known  one  cactus  yield 
nearly  four  pints  of  the  refreshing  liquid. 
It  is  slightly  acid  in  taste,  but  relieves 
thirst  admirably. 

Some  of  the  opuntias  are  beautiful  in 
the  extreme.  They  have  a  color,  shading 
from  light  sage-green  to  ebony-yellow, — 
tones  to  make  a  connoisseur  rave  with 
delight.  As  the  sun  shines  on  this  mass 
of  ivory  spines  they  become  a  halo,  more 
exquisitely  beautiful  than  any  ever  painted 
over  sainted  figure  by  enraptured  artist. 
In  shape  their  shiny  limbs  are  almost  like 
bunches  of  bananas  turned  upward.  When 
the  spines  fall  off,  as  they  do  each  year, 
they  look  like  small  bunches  of  porcupine 

quills,  long,  sharp,  and  penetrating,  and  the  slightest  breeze  blows 
them  toward  you.  This  has  given  rise  to  the  popular  superstition 
that  they  are  attracted  by  the  human  presence  and  come  to  you 
in  obedience  to  this  weird  influence. 

The  lizard,  however,  has  no  fear  of  the  thorns.  He  runs  in 
and  out,  under  and  over  them,  apparently  without  a  thought, 
while  to  the  unsuspecting  human  animal,  let  him  but  approach 
near  enough,  they  seem  to  reach  out  and  pierce  him  to  the  quick. 

In  Arizona  some  of  the  commoner  forms  of  cactus  have  been 
singed  and  used  as  forage  plants.  The  season  of  1903-4  was 
one  of  great  drought.  Cattle  suffered  on  the  ranges  for  want  of 
feed.     Stockmen  were  at  their  wits'  end  to  know  what  to  do  for 


Tidy- 
tips 
(Laya 
platy- 
glossa) 


224  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

their  cattle,  which,  half  starved,  were  wandering  away  from  the 
ranges  in  search  of  food,  and  wearied  and  unsuccessful  were 
dying  by  scores.  The  Experimental  Farm  tested  the  matter,  and 
analyzed  the  nutriment  values  of  certain  cactuses.  A  gasoline 
burner  was  designed,  on  the  principle  of  the  familiar  plumber's 
gasoline  torch,  and  it  was  found  that  on  the  desert  from  seven 
thousand  to  eleven  thousand  pounds  of  cactus  forage  could  be 
singed  each  day.  Hungry  cattle  ate  it  with  avidity,  literally 
devouring  every  particle  of  the  prickly  pears  and  leaving  only 
the  trunks  and  woody  branches  of  the  chollas.  The  cactus  is 
valuable  to  cattle  not  only  because  of  its  nutritive  qualities,  but 
even  more  so  because  it  contains  so  much  water,  fully  seventy- 
five  to  eighty  per  cent  being  moisture. 

But  Luther  Burbank,  the  wizard  of  plant  life,  has  solved  the 
spine  problem  without  singeing.  He  has  developed  a  species 
of  spineless  cactus  which  has  high  nutritive  and  water  value. 
This  cactus  will  undoubtedly,  in  time,  be  planted  in  large  areas 
of  the  Colorado  and  other  deserts  and  thus  aid  cattle,  if  not 
man,  in  solving  that  most  difficult  of  desert  problems,  —  the 
permanent  and  well-distributed  supply  of  water  in  the  dryest 
areas.1 

The  many  contrivances  of  nature  in  the  desert  to  aid  tree  and 
plant  life  in  the  struggle  for  existence  against  the  great  heat  and 
the  scarcity  of  water  make  a  most  fascinating  branch  of  study. 
How  comes  it  that  delicate  plants  and  flowers  are  able  to  bear 
the  heat  ?  What  are  the  special  adaptations  of  plant  life  in  the 
desert  ?  This  subject  has  been  most  carefully  studied  and  thor- 
oughly presented  by  Frederick  Vernon  Coville  in  his  "Botany 
of  Death  Valley,"  and  what  follows  is  based  upon  his  remarks. 

On  the  desert  as  elsewhere  the  customary  methods  of  pollina- 
tion appear  to  be  sufficient.  Insects  in  their  hunts  for  food  carry 
the  pollen  and  distribute  it  where  needed.  The  wind  also  does 
its  share. 

1  Since  the  above  was  written  I  have  seen  the  spineless  cactus  of  Mr.  Burbank,  have 
rubbed  my  hands  and  cheeks  all  over  it.  It  is  a  marvel.  But  the  suggestion  that  this 
cactus  will  soon  be  planted  on  the  desert  needs  qualification.  If  planted  in  the  open  it  is 
so  attractive  as  an  article  of  food  to  all  animals,  wild  and  tame,  that  it  would  soon  disap- 
pear. It  will  need  to  be  planted  in  a  protected  area,  and  then  fed  to  stock,  as  are  corn, 
beets,  etc. 


fc] 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


225 


There  is  wide  adaptation  and  variety  of  methods  in  disseminat- 
ing the  seeds.  The  "downy"  seeds  of  many  compositae,  such  as 
Aster  mohavensis,  Tetrad ymia  spinosa,  etc.,  are  easily  wind- 
borne;  the  fruits  of  the  Larrea  and  Eurotia  by  the  long  divergent 
hairs  on  their  surfaces;  those  of  the  J  triplex,  Grayia,  and  Sarco- 
batus  by  the  plate-like  enlargement  of  the  involucre;  and  those 
of  the  Salazaria  by  a  bladdery  inflated  calyx.  While  in  none  of 
these  cases  is  the  fruit  buoyant  enough  to  remain  suspended  in 
the  air,  it  is  sufficiently  light  to  be  blown 
along  the  surface  of  the  ground  by  an  ordi- 
nary wind.  In  other  plants  the  stem  breaks 
off  as  a  base  and  the  whole  plant  goes  rolling 
over  and  over  as  a  tumbleweed  to  scatter  its 
own  seeds.  Other  seeds  have  barbed  bristles 
that  catch  in  the  fur  of  desert  animals  and 
are  thus  transmitted.  The  fruits  of 
the  Opuntia  are  all  dry  (though  fleshy 
away  from  the  desert),  and  are  thus 
able  to  be  carried  by  the  wind. 

The  chief  problem  of  desert  plant 
life  is  that  of  ordinary  growth. 
There  is  sufficiency  of  light  and 
food,  but  moisture,  both  in  the  air 
and  the  soil,  is  deficient.  "A  plant 
absorbs  moisture  from  the  soil 
through  its  roots,  carries  it  along  its 
stem,  and  transpires  it  by  evapora- 
tion from  the  stomata  (breathing 
pores)  of  the  leaves.  Transpira- 
tion is  an  absolute  necessity  in  the  growth  of  a  plant,  for  upon 
it  depends  directly  the  performance  of  several  of  the  vital  func- 
tions. If  a  plant  of  ordinary  structure,  such,  for  example,  as  red 
clover,  were  exposed  to  the  climatic  conditions  of  the  desert,  it 
would  wilt,  dry  up,  and  die.  To  speak  in  physiological  terms, 
the  hot,  dry  air  has  caused  more  water  to  be  transpired  from 
the  leaves  than  the  roots  can  supply,  the  soft  tissues  have  lost 
their  turgescence,  and  the  dependent  vital  functions  have  ceased. 
The  first  theoretical  necessity  of  the  plant  is  that  the  water  it  ab- 

Vol. I.— 15 


Blue-and- 
white  lupin 


2  20 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


sorbs  from  the  ground  shall  practically  equal  in  amount  that  which 
it  transpires.  Desert  shrubs  accomplish  this  by  the  reduction  of 
transpiration  and  by  the  increase  of  means  for  absorption." 

I  have  already  referred  to  the  great  roots  of  some  desert 
plants.  The  mesquite  roots  extend  enormously  and  can  often 
be  found  fifty,  sixty  or  more  feet  away.  Yet  "during  the  season 
of  drought  the  largest  amount  of  moisture  that  the  roots  can  by 
any  possibility  absorb  is  comparatively  small,  and  the  greatest 
burden  of  modification  must  fall  on  the  transpiratory  system." 
A  careful  examination  of  many  desert  species  led  to  the  follow- 
ing conclusions.  The  leaves  of  desert  plants  are  strikingly  mod- 
ified in  size,  form,  and  thickness.  As 
a  rule  they  are  small,  only  six  out 
of  forty-one  shrubs  examined  hav- 
ing leaves  with  a  single  surface  area 
which  exceeds  one  square  centimeter 
(about  half  a  square  inch).  There 
is  no  limit  to  the  smallness  of  the 
leaves,  for  the  Cereus  and  Echino- 
cactus  have  no  leaves  at  all,  and  in 
the  Ephedra  they  are  represented 
by  scales  devoid  of  chlorophyll  and 
so  constructed  as  to  preclude  the 
possibility  of  transpiration.  In  such 
cases  all  the  transpiration  is  carried 
on  by  stem. 
In  this  connection  it  is  interesting  to  note  the  peculiar  leafing 
habits  of  the  ocatilla  (Fouqueria  splendens).  As  I  have  elsewhere 
said,  this  "candle  cactus  "will  lose  all  its  leaves  in  hot,  dry  weather. 
At  such  times  it  transpires  through  the  stem.  On  the  first  rain, 
even  though  the  roots  are  barely  wet,  the  plant  immediately 
leaves  out,  undoubtedly  for  the  purpose  of  affording  it  the  op- 
portunity for  a  period  of  leaf  transpiration.  Able  to  do  without 
leaves  when  it  has  to,  it  leaps  to  avail  itself  of  them  at  the  first 
possible  advantage. 

The  form  and  thickness  of  the  leaves  of  desert  shrubs  are  direct 
modifications  for  reducing  the  evaporating  surface.  It  is  sur- 
prising to  the  superficial  observer  to  find  the  peculiar  forms  of 


The  creosote  bush 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


227 


these  leaves;  all  of  them  clearly  adapted  to  resist  rapid  evapora- 
tion; and  in  all  the  forty-one  specimens  examined  not  one  had  a 
thin  leaf. 

Then,  too,  the  early  falling  of  the  leaves  of  desert  shrubs  that 
have  none  of  the  special  adaptations  for  preventing  rapid  evapo- 
ration, such  as  hairy,  scaly,  or  resinous  epidermis,  is  a  special 
provision  for  their  protection.  The  leaves  grow  rapidly  during 
the  spring  rains  and  carry  on  most  rapid 
transpiration,  but  when  the  intense  heat 
comes  they  are  unable  to  continue,  and  not 
being  able  to  adapt  themselves  to  a  slower 
transpiration  they  dry  up  and  fall  away.  In 
some  plants  the  means  for  transpiration  is 
in  the  epidermis  of  the  stem,  which  is  well 
supplied  with  chlorophyll  to  permit  the  as- 
similation of  food. 

"In  the  majority  of  plants,  however,  the 
leaves  remain  on  the  stems  during  the  greater 
part  of  the  summer,  carrying  on  theii  func- 
tions. To  confine  transpiration  to  that  min- 
imum which  alone  it  is  possible  for  a  plant 
in  such  environment  to  support,  the  surfaces 
of  the  leaves  are  protected  either  by  a 
resinous  exudate  or  by  a  close  covering 
of  dry  hairs. 

"In  Larrea  tridentata  (the  creosote 
bush)  is  found  the  apparently  simplest 
form  of  resinous  coating.  The  leaves  and 
small  twigs  are  thinly  spread  with  a  cov- 
ering that  closely  resembles  in  appearance 
ordinary  shellac.      To  the  abundance  of 

this  resinous  matter  the  plant's  popular  name,  creosote  bush,  is  due, 
for  in  burning  the  green  wood  and  leaves  of  Larrea  a  pungent  odor 
is  detected,  and  a  dense  smoke  arises.  That  the  function  of  the 
coating  is  to  minimize  transpiration,  there  can  be  no  doubt,  but 
the  precise  method  by  which  this  is  brought  about  has  not  been 
ascertained.  If  it  were  simply  by  the  complete  mechanical  var- 
nishing of  the   leaf-surface,    all   transpiration   would   cease.     It 


Blue 

larkspur       \ 
(Delphi- 
nium) 


228         The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

should  be  pointed  out  here  that  in  winter,  when  we  first  became 
familiar  with  the  creosote  bush,  its  leaves  were  thoroughly  var- 
nished; but  in  June,  when  the  spring  growth  had  nearly  ceased, 
the  leaves  appeared  to  have  very  little  of  the  coating.  There  is  in 
this  fact  an  evident  correlation  between  rapid  transpiration  and 
absence  of  resinous  covering,  and  a  similar  correlation  between 
slow  transpiration,  and  the  presence  of  such  a  covering." 

Resinous  exudate,  when  it  occurs  on  desert  plants,  is  usually 
definitely  associated  with  conspicuous  glands.  Some  of  these 
glands  are  on  the  surface  of  the  epidermis  or  partly  imbedded  in 
the  tissue.  In  some  species  the  glands  are  confined  almost 
entirely  to  the  stem  and  branches,  and  are  found  only  very  spar- 
ingly on  the  leaves.  In  other  species  the  glands  are  confined  to 
the  leaves.  "These  two  types  of  the  distribution  of  glands  are 
seen  at  once  to  be  correlated  with  the  functions  of  stem  and  leaf. 
Plants  which  rely  principally  upon  their  leaves  for  transpiration 
have  these  organs  more  glandular  than  their  stems,  while  plants 
in  which  the  leaves  drop  ofF  early,  and  which,  therefore,  are 
forced  to  transpire  from  their  stems,  have  precisely  the  opposite 
provision."  In  some  of  these  species  the  contents  of  the  glands 
do  not  exude  over  the  surface  of  the  adjacent  tissues,  and  there- 
fore only  a  portion  of  the  surface  is  protected  by  the  exudation. 
This  fact  suggests  strongly  the  idea  that  in  such  cases  some  other 
function  than  the  mere  mechanical  sheltering  of  the  transpiration 
surface  must  be  ascribed  to  these  glands.  The  elucidation  of 
the  problem  is  likely  to  be  attained  only  by  direct  experiment. 

Fourteen  of  the  forty-one  shrubs  examined  by  Mr.  Coville 
have  a  conspicuously  developed  hairy  coating  of  the  leaves  or 
stems.  These  hairs  are  varied  and  individualistic,  and  the  why 
of  this  is  not  yet  fully  understood.  "The  general  important  fact, 
however,  is  that  from  almost  any  form  of  trichome  there  may  be 
developed,  under  a  desert  environment,  a  close  hairy  covering, 
so  constructed  as  to  greatly  reduce  the  amount  of  heat  transmitted 
from  the  air  to  the  plant.  In  general  the  individual  hairs  of  such 
a  covering  have  no  moist  cell-contents,  but  are  minute  sacks  or 
tubes  of  cellulose  filled  with  air  and  closely  felted  together.  The 
air  contained  in  the  cavities  of  the  hairs  and  in  the  spaces  between 
them  constitutes  an  excellent  non-conductor  of  heat.     It  is  un- 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


229 


doubtedly  true  also  that  the  circulation  of  air  through  the  inter- 
stices between  the  hairs  is  comparatively  sluggish,  and  the  ex- 
tremely dry  atmosphere  is  therefore  admitted  very  slowly  to  the 
stomata  and  through  them  to  the  moist  interior  of  the  leaf." 

"A  few  genera  of  desert  plants,  Ephedra,  Cereus,  and  Echino- 
cactus,  carry  on  transpiration  through  their  stems  only,  and  are 
protected  by  neither  glands,  resinous  exudate,  nor  hairy  covering. 
In  Ephedra  transpiration    is    reduced  un- 
doubtedly by  a  thickened    and   extremely 
impervious  cuticle,  aided  by  the  mechanism 
of  the  stomata.     In  the  other  three  genera, 
all  belonging  to  the  order  cactaceae,  there 
is  likewise  a  marked  thickening 
of  the  cuticle,  together  with  a 
special  modification  of  the  in- 
terior tissues  of  the  stem  to  re- 
tain water.     If  a  leaf  or  stem 
of  any   plant    not   containing 
these  water  reservoirs  be  split, 
the    organ    is    speedily   desic- 
cated, since  the  soft  tissues  exposed 
by  cutting  are  not  adapted   to  resist 
the  drying  effect  of  the  air.     But  if  an 
Echinocactus    stem  be  cut  open,  the 
outer  layers  of  cells  on  the  raw  surface 
become  dry  and  form  an  artificial  coat- 
ing.    With  this  slight   protection  the 
interior  tissues  are  capable  of  retaining 
their  moisture,  even  in  the  plant  press, 
for  several  weeks." 

The  vast  importance  and  interest  of  this  phase  of  the  subject 
is  my  only  excuse  for  making  such  lengthy  extracts  from  Mr. 
Coville's  interesting  and  lucid  paper.  He  suggests  many  other 
phases  of  the  subject  that  are  yet  in  the  process  of  elucidation, 
and  to  these  suggestions  those  who  are  interested  to  go  further 
are  respectfully  referred. 

Another  provision  for  the  protection  of  desert  plants  is  the 
fierce  thorns  with  which  they  are  garnished.    Like  the  knights  of 


Tarweed 

(Madia 

elegans) 


230 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


old,  they  sleep  in  their  armor,  which  covers  them  from  head  to 
foot.  And  what  armor  it  is!  The  thick  and  impenetrable 
epidermis  is  covered  with  thorns  sharper  than  any  needle  and 
far  more  tough  and  strong.  The  various  cactuses  present  a 
perfect  arsenal  of  weapons  to  you,  and  bid  you  begone.  But 
it  is  not  as  defense  against  man  that  they  are  thus  panoplied. 
The  desert  animals  are  great  "stayers"  without  water,  and  if  they 
could  get  at  these  succulent  plants,  especially 
when  young,  they  would  find  life  an  easy  thing. 
But  the  plants  fight  hard  for  life,  and  these  are 
their  weapons.  The  thorns  of  the  cactuses  are 
a  marvel,  both  in  form  and  variety  of  arrange- 
ment of  their  stars.  Let  those  who  say  there  is 
no  beauty  in  them  look  at  the  starry  clusters  of 
spines  in  the  accompanying  pictures,  and  if  he 
fail  to  see  beauty  his  eyes  register  very  differently 
from  mine.  From  the  report  of  the  scientists 
of  the  Mexican  Boundary  Commission  I  have 
taken  these  exquisite  engravings, 
and  several  of  them  have  been 
reproduced  for  this  work,  to 
give  a  true  conception  of  the  won- 
drous beauty  of  even  the  defensive 
weapons  of  these  little  known  and 
seldom  seen  desert  plants.  Who  can 
look,  for  instance,  on  the  Mamillaria 
pusilla,  with  its  dainty  arrangement 
of  these  formidable  spines,  and  not 
see  wondrous  beauty  ?  And,  in  fact,  every  one  of  these  plates  is 
worthy  a  careful  study  from  the  esthetic  standpoint  alone.  It 
will  be  noticed  that  some  of  the  starry  spine  clusters  have  one, 
some  two,  some  three  central  spines,  one  of  which  is  generally 
hooked.  These  central  spines  give  surer  protection,  for  no  animal 
can  worm  his  way  into  the  heart  of  any  plant  thus  armored. 
Some  of  the  spines  are  long,  some  short,  some  hooked,  some  are 
barbed,  and  some  are  so  sheathed  that  when  the  thorn  penetrates 
part  of  the  sheath  remains  in  the  wound  and  festers. 

The  spines  of  the  Echlnocactus  add  a  color  value  also  to  their 


Ehia  salvia 
columbaricB 


CO 


E-, 


to 


<o 


Plant  Life  on  the  Desert 


231 


general  beauty.  They  are  ivory-like,  with  streaks  of  delicate 
pink  throughout  and  across  them.  Compare  the  star  clusters 
of  the  Echinocactus  horizonthalonius  with  those  of  the  E.  inter- 
textus.  How  different,  yet  how  perfect  in  arrangement  and 
how  beautiful!  Then  in  the  Cereus  viridiflorus  an  entirely 
different  but  equally  classic  and  exquisite  arrangement  is  given. 
When  I  see  the  labored  efforts  of  the  commercial  designers, 
and  think  of  the  wealth  freely  offered  by  Nature  in  these 
desert  suggestions,  in  cactus,  lizard,  snake,  and  animals,  I  am 
amazed  at  the  gnorance  and  stupidity  of  those  who  prefer  to 
work  over  old  and  insane  conventional  designs  instead  of  strik- 
ing out  boldly  by  giving  to  the  world  these  original  conceptions 
of  Nature. 

As  to  the  flowers  of  the  various  cactuses,  there  is  nothing  in  the 
floral  world,  to  my  mind,  that  can  equal  them  in  fineness  of  tex- 
ture, loveliness  of  color,  and  perfect  grace. 


Evolution  of  Indian  dwellings 


232 


The  Indians  of  the  Desert 


233 


CHAPTER  XV 


The  Indians  of  the  Desert 

'OME  white  men  are  naturally  antagonistic  to  the 
desert.  They  fear,  dread,  and  shun  it.  Its  hard- 
ships and  dangers,  its  perils  and  deaths,  daunt 
and  restrain  them,  and  comparatively  few  ever 
venture  into  its  secret  and  hidden  places. 

The  Indians  have  no  such  dread.  They  do  not 
complain  of  the  desert's  hardships.  They  have  no 
fear  of  its  perils.  While  they  regard  some  things  on  the  desert 
with  veneration  and  awe,  such  as  the  rumblings  heard  near  Tau- 
quitch  Peak,  on  Mount  San  Jacinto,  and  the  noises  caused  by 
the  wind  in  the  rocks  on  Mount  Palomar,  they  are  familiar  with 
everything  on  the  desert  at  all  times.  It  is  their  home,  chosen 
for  them  by  the  gods,  where  they  are  bound  to  reside  until  their 
supreme  guides  lead  them  elsewhere.  For  the  Indian  is  nothing 
if  not  reverent.  His  reverence  may  to  us  seem  to  be  superstition, 
yet,  all  the  same,  it  is  real  and  sincere  to  him. 

It  will  be  impossible  to  devote  as  much  space  to  a  considera- 
tion of  the  desert  tribes  of  Indians  as  I  desire.  I  must  leave  the 
subject  for  fuller  presentation  in  books  which  I  have  in  contem- 
plation.1 

Below  the.  Grand  Canyon  there  are  several  tribes  of  Indians 
who  live  on  the  Colorado  River.  These  are  the  Mohaves  on  the 
Fort  Mohave  reservation,  and  then  a  band  of  Chemehuevis,  the 
latter  being  renegade  Paiutis  who  found  a  home  here  many  years 
ago  when  there  was  a  famine  in  their  own  habitat.  Below  the 
Chemehuevis  is  another  group  of  Mohaves,  on  the  Colorado  River 
reservation.  Near  Yuma  are  the  Indians  who  gave  the  name  to 
the  city,  and  nearer  to  the  gulf  are  the  Cocopahs. 

1  These  are  in  preparation.  One  will  deal  with  the  Indians  in  the  Mount  San 
Jacinto  region  and  will  be  entitled  "The  Indians  of  Ramona's  Country;"  and  the 
other  will  fully  discuss  the  Indians  of  the  Colorado  River. 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


In  the  hot  weather  it  is  no  unusual  sight  in  the  more  secluded 
parts  of  the  river  to  find  a  group  of  Yumas  sitting  in  the  mud  with 
fresh  mud  on  their  heads,  and  one  writer  facetiously  remarks 
that  "by  dint  of  constant  dipping  and  sprinkling  they  manage 
to  keep  from  roasting,  though  they  usually  come  out  parboiled. 

Strangers  coming  sudden- 
ly upon  a  group  squatted 
in  water  up  to  their  necks, 
with     their    mud-covered 
heads  glistening  in  the  sun, 
frequently   mistake   them 
for    seals.      Their    usual 
mode   of  traveling  down 
the  river  is  astride  of  a  log,  — 
their    heads   only   being  visible. 
It    is    enough    to    make   a    man 
stare  with   amazement   to   see  a 
-_— -    group   of  mud-balls   floating  on   the 
current,  laughing  and  talking  to  each 
other  as  if  it  were  the   finest   fun   in   the 
world.     I  have  never  tried  this  mode  of  locomo- 
tion, but  I  have  an  idea  it  must  be  delightful  in  such  a  glowing 
summer  climate." 

There  are  a  few  Cocopahs  who  now  reside  near  Calexico,  and 
until  recently  a  village 
of  the    Dieguienos    at 
San  Felipe. 

The    chief    group,      [  TH*3BUtoX~%       J 
however,    is    ofthe        f         W  JJ 
Coahuilla  tribe  on  the  **' 

western     side     of    the 
Coachella    Valley,     as 

far  north  as  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  where,  a  few  miles  below 
Banning,  the  Potrero  Village  is  located.  Here  are  two  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  Coahuillas  and  Serranos  —  the  latter  being 
the  mountain  tribes,  who  have  considerably  intermarried.  At 
Palm  Springs  (to  the  white  settlement  of  which  I  have  devoted 
a   whole   chapter)    are  twenty-nine   Indians   on   three   thousand 


Indian  does 


The  Indians  of  the  Desert 


235 


eight  hundred  and  forty-four  acres.     Water,  however,  is  scarce, 
and  without  water  the  desert  land  is  useless. 

Recently  an  inspector  of  the  Indian  department  visited  Palm 
Springs  and  proceeded  forthwith  to  .file  upon  all  the  unappro- 
priated water  of  the  region.  When  asked  if  he  intended  to  take 
all  the  water  his  reply  was  characteristic:  "I'm  here  for  one 
purpose,  and  that  is  to  look  after  the  interests  of  the  Indians. 
They  are  poor,  downtrodden,  and  incapable  of  caring  for  them- 
selves. I'll  do  all  I  can  for  them.  The  whites  must  look  out 
for  themselves." 


'■  *?.?■' 


Coco  pah  Indians,  near  Calexico 


At  Cabazon  on  six  hundred  and  forty  acres  are  twenty-eight 
Indians.  They  have  no  water  and  their  land  produces  nothing, 
and  were  it  not  for  the  mountain  plants  and  seeds  found  on  the 
foot-hills  of  the  San  Bernardino  these  poor  wretches  would  die 
of  starvation. 

Below  Indio  are  Torres,  Martinez,  Alamo  Bonita,  and  Agua 
Dulce,  all  on  the  Torres  reservation  of  19,200  acres  and  with 
a  population,  all  told,  of  213.  A  reservation  eleven  miles  long 
and  varying  in  width  from  one  to  four  miles,  with  plenty  of 
water  and  exceedingly  rich  soil,  is  looked  upon  with  envious 
eyes  by  not  a  few  white  men  in  Southern  California.     But  let  us 


236 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


hope  there  will  be  no  chicanery  in  dealing  with  this  small  rem- 
nant of  a  once  powerful  people.  This  reservation  should  be 
kept  for  them  so  long  as  there  is  a  family  to  require  it. 

For  many  years  the  only  water  the  Indians  had  was  gained 
from  surface  wells  they  themselves  had  dug. 


Potrero  Indian 

reservation  at  Banning 

The  earth  was  taken  away  from  these  excavations  by  the  In- 
dian women  in  baskets.  They  were,  in  the  main,  the  excavators. 
To  the  white  mind  this  is  but  another  proof  of  the  laziness  of  the 

Indian  man,  and  his  rude  brutality 
to  his  squaw  in  allowing  or  compel- 
ling her  to  do  hard  and  severe  work 
that  only  a  man  is  fitted  to  perform. 
But  here  as  in  other  things  the  white 
mind     is     in     error     because    of    its 


Granaries  at  Torres 
stupidity  in  insisting  up- 
on looking  at  a  problem 
concerning  other  people  from  its  own  angle  of  vision.  The 
Indian  woman  laughs  at  the  folly  of  the  white  reasoner.  She 
says  in  explanation:  "There  are  two  kinds  of  labor,  —  man's 
and  woman's.  Man's  labor  is  to  hunt,  to  provide  the  food,  and 
to  fight,  to  protect  the  home.     Woman's  is  to  do  all  the  work 


The  Indians  of  the  Desert 


237 


Old 
Indian 

well 


of  the  home.  To  provide  water  is  woman's  work.  What 
though  it  means  hard  labor  to  get  the  water,  Indian  women  are 
well  and  strong,  and  thankful  to  be  well  and  strong.  Those 
above  give  them  strength  and  health.  Do  not  white  women 
want  to  be  healthy  and  strong  and  capable  of  doing  hard  work  ? 
We  do!  We  are  grateful  for  our  health  and  our  strength.  We 
like  to  use  our  strength,  and  we  do  not  want  our  men  to  interfere 
in  work  that  belongs  to  us  and  not  to  them." 

Thus  our  pity  is  wasted,  —  bestowed  upon  those  who  scorn 
it,  and  whose  scorn  also  is  not  undeserved  when  applied  to  those 

who  would  prefer  to 
be  dainty  in  appear- 
ance and  "look  nice," 
rather  than  be  healthy, 
strong,  vigorous,  and 
capable  of  hard  toil. 

But  now  the  old  In- 
dian  well    is    deserted. 
The  labor   of  the  past 
is  forgotten.     The  new 
artesian  wells  have  rendered  use- 
less the  once  priceless  possession 
of  this  small   pool   of  surface  water. 
It    is     some    fifteen    or    twenty    feet 
down,  cut  out  at  one  side  to  allow  free 
and  easy  access,   and  now    it    has    a 
neglected     appearance.       Brush     and 
weeds  grow  freely  around  it,  and  the 
water  that  accumulates  has    a  yellow  appearance   and    is   some- 
what brackish  to  the  taste,  so  that  even  the  wild  animals   despise 
and  forsake  it. 

This  is  not  surprising  when  it  is  remembered  that  there  are 
now  ten  artesian  wells  on  the  reservation.  It  is  generally  sup- 
posed that  the  first  artesian  well  in  the  Coachella  Valley  was  the 
one  bored  by  the  government  on  this  reservation.  This  is  an 
error.  The  Southern  Pacific  Company  had  first  demonstrated 
the  existence  of  artesian  water  at  Mortmere  and  then  at  Mecca, 
after  which  the  government  set  apart  $2,500  for  a  well  at  Mar- 


238 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


tinez.  The  expenditure  of  this  sum  is  an  example  and  evidence 
that  the  days  of  the  unscrupulous  politician  are  not  gone  by. 
Less  than  half,  even  a  third,  of  this  money  would  have  secured 
the  well,  but  the  appropriation  was  all  exhausted.  Thus  are  the 
Indians  robbed  by  scoundrel  whites  who  are  supposed  to  con- 
serve their  interests.  The  chief  good,  however,  was  attained. 
The  securing  of  artesian  water  assured  the  material  prosperity 
of  these  Indians,  for  with  thrift  and  industry  they  can  become 
more  independent  than  many  whites  in  less  favored  regions. 

While  all  the  villages  of  this  reservation  are  of  the  same  tribe, 
their  inhabitants  have  not  always  been  friendly  one  with  an- 
other. Stories  are  rife  among  them  that  show  that  fights  were 
not  uncommon.  The  usual  jealousies  sprang  up.  Men  of  dif- 
ferent villages  went  hunting  in 
the  same  place  at  the  same 
time  and  the  women  would  go 
to  gather  wild  seeds  and  find 
women  from  one  of  the  other 
villages  there  ahead  of  them. 
These  things  engendered  strife 
and  quarrelings,  and  occasional 
slayings  were  not  uncommon. 
In  various  parts  of  the  des- 
ert, scattered  under  clusters  of 
mesquites,  are  numbers  of 
pieces  of  broken  pottery.  Careful  examination  shows  the 
major  portion  of  these  to  have  been  large  ollas.  There  was 
no  evidence  of  any  other  than  temporary  habitation  and  no 
apparent  reason  for  this.  These  locations  were  not  on  the 
line  of  any  Indian  travel  to  be  used  as  camping  places,  and 
certainly  no  reason  could  be  found  for  choosing  such  stopping 
places  even  if  they  were  on  any  trail.  For  a  long  time  I 
was  puzzled  to  account  for  these  places,  until  at  last  I  was 
informed  that  they  were  used  by  Indians  of  the  Yuma  and 
Cocopah  tribes,  who,  long  ago,  occasionally  made  raids  on  the 
mountain  tribes.  Their  squaws  accompanied  them,  and,  as 
these  raids  were  generally  made  in  the  hottest  seasons  of  the 
year,  the  large  ollas  were  filled  with  water.     The  squaws  then 


Indian  boy  on  horseback 


The  Indians  of  the  Desert 


settled  themselves  down  under  the  chosen  location  of  mesquite, 
keeping  the  ollas  filled,  while  the  warriors  went  on  ahead  and 
perpetrated  their  designs  of  murder,  rapine,  theft,  and  destruc- 
tion. Then,  rapidly  retreating  to  these  spots,  they  rested  awhile, 
knowing  full  well  that  the  mountain  tribes  would  hesitate  at 
following  them  into  the  desert  at  such  a  heated  time.  Thus  the 
crafty  and  heat-resisting  Indians  of  one  tribe  preyed  upon  the 
fear  of  another  tribe  and  their  known  dread  of  venturing  upon 
certain  parts  of  the  desert  in  very  hot  weather. 

In  the  remaining  portion  of  this  chapter  I  shall  confine  myself 
to  the  village  of  Martinez. 

The  only  native  officials  are  a  capitan  and  alcalde  —  a  captain 
and  a  judge.  These  the  Indians  are  allowed  to  elect  themselves, 
subject,  however,  to  the 
veto  of  the  Indian  agent. 
Generally  the  election 
takes  place  in  June,  and 
the  officer  elected  serves 
for  one  year.  The  capitan 
for  this  year  is  Poncho 
Lomas,  and  the  alcalde  is 
Francisco  Nombre.  It  may 
be  interesting  to  note  that 
Francisco  has  four  genera- 
tions of  married  children  living,  so  that  he  certainly  cannot  be  ac- 
cused of  failing  in  his  duty  to  replenish  the  earth.  Captain  Poncho 
informs  me  that  the  original  name  of  his  people  was  E-va-at,  which 
signifies  people.  They  came  into  the  desert  from  over  the  San 
Jacinto  Mountains,  though  originally,  "in  the  beginning,"  as  he  put 
it,  they  came  from  the  East.  They  were  traveling  many  days, 
and  all  he  knows  of  the  journey  is  that  his  people  were  naked 
and  had  little  to  eat,  having  to  subsist  on  pinion  nuts,  prickly 
pear,  and  wild  grass  seeds,  with  the  few  animals  they  could  snare. 

Those  who  settled  in  this  spot  found  the  surface  water  which 
led  to  the  digging  of  the  well,  and  there  were  many  mesquite 
and  other  good  things  to  eat  that  grew  profusely.  The  moun- 
tains were  close  by  where  there  was  an  abundance  of  game,  so 
they  settled  here  and  were  content. 


A  Coahuilla  basket 


240  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

Then  the  waters  rose  on  the  desert  and  drove  them  forth, 
and  they  ascended  Martinez  Canyon,  toward  the  village  of 
Santa  Rosa,  and  lived  there  for  many  years,  catching  fish  from 
the  inland  sea.  The  water  remained  for  many,  many  years, 
and  it  was  during  this  time  that  they  made  the  so-called  fish 
traps  found  on  the  level  of  the  ancient  lake  beach.  These  traps 
are  rudely  circular  in  shape,  and  are  simple  depressions,  sur- 
rounded by  a  wall  of  granite.  They  are  from  two  and  a  half 
to  nine  feet  in  diameter,  and  give  the  impression  that  they  were 
built  out  at  low  tide,  so  that  as  the  water  came  in  fish  would  enter 
and  be  caught.  They  may,  says  Major  Rust,  have  been  pens 
for  holding  fish  that  the  Indians  had  caught.  Then  the  water 
receded  and  the  Indians  slowly  came  down  from  the  mountains 
and  took  up  their  residence  again   in  the  valley. 

When  the  water  first  went  down  the 
land  had  very  little  on  it,  only  a  few 
grasses,  and  the  people  did  not  have 
much  to  eat.  Then  the  grasses  grew 
more  plentifully,  and  soon  the  prickly 
pear  and  the  mesquite  came  and  then  all 
Indian  pony  was  well.  Those  were  the  prosperous 
days.  Every  one  had  plenty  to  eat,  they 
got  fat  and  grew  fast.  "Ah,"  said  Poncho,  "when  people  have 
little  to  eat  and  they  are  small  and  thin,  they  grow  slow.  It 
takes  a  boy  with  little  to  eat  long  years  before  he  becomes  a 
man,  but  when  he  can  eat  much  he  becomes  a  man  pretty  quick." 
Poncho's  son  Augustin  is  a  farmer  of  no  mean  order.  He  has 
seven  acres  of  barley,  half  an  acre  of  onions,  and  three  or  four 
acres  of  cantaloupes  as  well  as  a  good  stand  of  alfalfa  for  feeding 
his  horses.  Besides  attending  to  these  horticultural  and  agri- 
cultural operations  he  is  the  chief  partner  in  a  hay-baling  machine 
which  the  white  men  of  Coachella  Valley  keep  busy  during  the 
baling  season.  He  is  also  a  shipper  of  wood  to  the  city  markets. 
He  engages  the  men  of  his  tribe  to  cut  mesquite  wood  and  de- 
liver it  to  him  at  the  railroad  for  a  certain  price,  on  a  given  date. 
At  that  time  he  has  a  car  there  ready  for  loading,  into  which  the 
wood  is  directly  placed  from  the  wagons,  so  that  it  is  imme- 
diately ready  for  shipment.     In  addition  to  these  sources  of  in- 


The  Indians  of  the  Desert  241 

come  he  is  the  interpreter  of  the  little  mission  church,  and  he 
has  learned  the  art  of  barbering. 

The  population  of  Martinez  is  320,  men,  women,  and  children. 
The  men  are  generally  well  employed,  attending  to  their  own 
well-cultivated  and  fairly  prosperous  farms.  When  their  own 
work  permits  they  go  out  and  work  at  various  occupations  in  the 
valley.  Some  are  farmers,  others  prune  trees, —  and  at  this  they 
are  skilful,  —  pick  fruit,  pack  fruit,  some  are  machinists,  and  not 
a  few  work  on  the  railway  as  section  hands. 

Land  is  held  in  community.     All  members  of  the  tribe,  male  or 
female,  who  wish  to  use  land  may  make  application  for  it.     A 
council  is  then  held,  and  the  land  apportioned  according  to  the 
judgment  of   those    concerned,   and   the 
agent    then    confirms    or    alters    the   ap- 
portionment according  to  his  own  judg- 
ment.    The    amount     of    land    on     the 
reservation  would  allow  each    Indian   to 
have   sixty-two    and   one-half   acres,   but 
for  some  reason  or  other   the   agent   re- 
stricts the  allotment  to 'ten   acres. 

The  Indians  now  have  very  little  stock 

(about  two  hundred  and  fifty  head  in  all), 

and  what  they  have   is    kept   in   fenced  r       '   $A,Mf 

r  11         TTTi         •  11  j  ^  -ii       Indian  horse  '  ■■■?' 

fields.     When  it  was  allowed  to  run  wild 

there  was  constant   friction   between  the 

Indians  and  the  few  whites  who  had  located  in  the  desert.      The 

latter    contended    that    the     horses    and    cattle    of   the    Indians 

ate   and  trampled    down   their   grain,   destroyed    their  gardens, 

ruined   their   irrigation    ditches,    and   they  would   impound   the 

offending  animals  and  refuse  to  release  them  until  they  had  been 

paid  the  sometimes  unreasonable  and  unjust  claims  they  made 

for  damages.     It  can  be  well  imagined  what  confusion  and  irrita-. 

tion  arose  from  this  course  of  procedure.     As  white  men  came  into 

the  valley  in  large  numbers,  the  Indians  seemed  to  realize  that 

discretion  was  the  better  part  of  valor.     With  the  best  grace  they 

could  they  submitted  to  the  inevitable,  sold  the  major  portion  of 

their  stock,  fenced  their  lands,  and  thus  kept  up  the  balance,  so 

that  there  is  little  annoyance  on  either  side  in  this  regard. 

Vol.  I.— 16 


242 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


Indian 
burro 


At  one  time  they  had  over  one  thousand  burros,  but  few  are  now 
left.  The  way  they  were  defrauded  of  their  burros  is  another 
evidence  of  the  superiority  (!)  of  the  white  man.  During  one  of 
the  spasmodic  mining  excitements  that  now  and  again  thrill 
Southern  California,  a  few  "clever  fellows"  bethought  themselves 
of  the  burros  of  the  Coachella  Valley  Indians. 
They  were  in  great  demand,  for  a  prospector 
without  a  burro  is  as  unthinkable  as  Othello 
without  Iago  or  Desdemona.  These  rare  speci- 
mens of  the  "superior  race"  built  a  pound  or 
corral  not  far  from  Martinez,  and  then  coolly 
proceeded  to  capture  all  the  burros  they  could 
find,  running  wild  over  the  desert  or  in  the  near- 
by canyons.  They  succeeded  in  capturing  sev- 
eral hundreds  which  they  then  drove  off  and 
sold  to  the  would-be  discoverers  of  gold  mines, 
in  Los  Angeles,  Riverside,  Redlands,  and  San 
Bernardino.  Thus  again  was  the  superiority  of  the  whites  over 
the  reds  demonstrated,  for  the  former  got  the  burros  and  also  the 
money  for  their  sale. 

A  stout,  well-built  Indian  named  Anastasio  is  the  chief  medicine- 
man. But  he  feels  that  his  art  is  on  the  wane.  The  medicines  of 
the  missionary,  the  things 
purchasable  at  the  store, 
the  prosperity  brought  by 
the  artesian  water,  all  help 
to  render  his  services  less 
necessary,  so  little  by  little 
the  importance  of  his  func- 
tions is  disappearing  and 
soon,  like  so  many  things 
of  "the  old,"  his  office  will 
become  a  mere  name,  a 
thing  of  the  past. 

Their  native  houses  are  called  kish,  and  are  built  of  a  frame- 
work of  strong  poles,  —  mesquite,  cottonwood,  or  willow,  — 
into  which  are  worked  in  a  variety  of  ways  willows,  arrow-weed, 
palm  leaves,    etc.     Sometimes  the   filling-in   material   is   rudely 


Indian  granary 


The  Indians  of  the  Desert 


243 


woven  or  wattled;  again  it  is  stacked  in  upright  layers  held  in 
place  bycrosspieces,  one  inside  and  one  outside  the  kish,  tied  to 
the  upright  poles,  and  fastened  to  each  other  by  buckskin  or 
yucca  fiber  thongs.     In  two  kisrhes  that  I  saw  there  was  a  success- 


Nbft  .M 


■m,A. 


%r&. 


<i$i 


■j& 


wtf*%» 


"\&i&SCffy^^ 


"Jlsr.  «i 


^mmm^^W' 


Brush  shelter 


-3 wn- |p^e 


Evolution  of  Indian  dwellings 


ful  attempt  at  beautification  by  tying  small  bunches  of  willow  or 
arrow-weed  together  and  then  placing  the  bunches  side  by  side, 
and  fastening  them  in  place  by  the  crosspieces  as  before  described. 
The  tying  of  the  weeds  together  makes  a  marked  improvement  in 
the  appearance  of  the  dwelling. 


Willow  huts 


Evolution  of  Indian  dwellings 

As  is  found  in  most  aboriginal  dwellings  in  the  hot  Southwest, 
the  desert  kish  is  provided  with  a  rude  porch,  called  al'-a-nut. 
This  is  generally  large  enough  to  be  a  valuable  acquisition  to  the 
kish.     It  is  often  larger  than  the  hut  proper,  and  serves  as  a  place 


244         The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

for  working,  cooking,  eating,  social  intercourse,  and  indeed, 
winter  and  summer  alike,  for  every  purpose  except  sleeping  and 
storing  goods. 

It  is  a  rude,  primitive  affair,  a  mere  shelter,  open  on  three  sides, 
supported  by  poles  and  covered  with  arrow-weed,  willows,  or 
palm  leaves,  and,  during  the  few  scant  rains,  made  as  waterproof 
as  is  necessary  by  throwing  on  a  few  loads  of  earth  which  the 
palm  leaves  do  not  allow  to  sift  through.  Here  and  there  a  white 
man's  tent,  kar-pa,  is  seen,  and  one  family  lives  in  an  adobe  house 
with  a  most  pretentious  adobe  chimney,  while  the  captain,  Poncho 
Lomas,  lives  in  a  composite  dwelling,  the  kitchen  being  of  lumber, 
and  the  sleeping-rooms  the  ordinary  willow  kish  of  the  aborigine. 

In  one  style  of  house  the  arrow-weed  is  used  with  good  effect 
and  picturesque  appearance.  Small  bunches  of  the  weed  are 
fastened  by  a  cross-pole  to  the  upper  portion  of  the  house  frame. 
The  butts  of  the  weed  are  upward,  and  the  tips  downward. 
These  are  then  plaited  together  in  neat  and  regular  fashion,  new 
weeds  being  introduced  as  required,  until  the  whole  side  of  the 
house  is  completed.  Here,  then,  is  a  house  of  basketry.  It  keeps 
out  the  sun  and  rain,  and  breaks  very  materially  the  force  of  the 
wind. 

Who  knows  what  fetiches  are  hidden  in  the  shadowy  re- 
cesses of  these  dwellings,  —  the  charms  to  keep  off  the  witches, 
to  prevent  the  bats  flying  into  the  rude  houses  and  sucking  away 
the  breath  of  the  sleeping  inmates  at  night,  to  keep  lizards  and 
horned  toads  from  creeping  into  one's  belly  and  giving  terrible 
cramps,  to  keep  the  Evil  One  out  of  the  stomachs  of  pot-bellied 
children  -at  corn  and  melon  time,  to  keep  the  rattlesnakes  from 
biting,  bears  from  hugging,  mountain  lions  from  leaping  upon 
one,  to  ward  off  sidewinders,  and  the  harm  that  comes  from  the 
hoot  of  the  owl  at  night  ?  What  a  melange  of  charms  and  amulets 
one  would  need  to  give  one  a  good  husband  or  wife,  to  procure 
long  life,  to  determine  the  sex  of  the  unborn  child,  to  make  the 
barren  woman  bear,  to  produce  a  flow  of  milk,  to  make  the  sheep 
and  cows  more  prolific  and  add  to  the  number  of  the  horses, 
mules,  and  burros,  to  make  the  corn,  melons,  and  onions  grow,  to 
give  one  a  sweet  voice,  to  win  the  love  of  a  shy  and  timid  maiden, 
or  to  compel  the  caresses  of  a  wilful  and  strong-minded  man,  — 


T-    ~    ' ''".»; »'"  "■  ■■■   ■  "'.,.    j  .      ,»"■    ~    "fi      7 

~v,  #  ft! 

■;■-  •      ?& 


The  Indians  of  the  Desert 


245 


ah,  only  those  who  know  the  real  inner  heart,  the  real  supersti- 
tious life  of  the  Indian,  can  dream  of  the  number  of  these  strange 
things  hidden  in  a  village  like  this. 

The  Coahuilla  Indians  do  not  have  many  native  arts  now  left 
to  them.  They  still  make  a  few  baskets,  however,  their  work 
being  of  fair  quality.  A  few  weavers  do  excellent  work.  In  all 
there  are  now  thirteen  women  who  do  basket-making  with  some 
degree  of  regularity.  Careful  inquiry  among  them  has  so  far 
failed  to  find  any  weavers  who  use  any  symbolism  in  the  designs 
of  their  baskets.  One  or  two  weavers  imitate  birds,  reptiles,  etc., 
such  designs  as  those  of  the  eagle,  turtle,  lizard,  and  butterfly 
being  not  uncommon,  but  many  other  designs  of  evident  vegetable 
origin  are  said  to  have  no  meaning, 
and  are  used  merely  "to  make  the 
basket  look  pretty." 

The  Coahuillas  make  a  rude  pot- 
tery in  somewhat  similar  fashion  to 
that  of  the  pueblo  tribes  of  Arizona 
and  New  Mexico.  They  find  the 
clay  in  the  mountains,  soak  it,  and 
then  pound  and  puddle  it  with  round 
rocks.  As  soon  as  it  is  properly 
worked,  the  pottery-maker  takes  a 
piece  of  the  clay,  rolls  it  out  into  a 
long  rope,  and  then  begins  her  coil 

just  as  if  she  were  making  a  basket.  One  coil  is  laid  upon  an- 
other, and  the  two  are  pinched  together,  then  smoothed  out 
with  a  small  bone,  wood,  or  gourd-shell  paddle.  When  the 
vessel  is  complete  it  is  dried  in  the  sun  for  a  short  time  and  then 
put  in  a  fire  of  mesquite  wood.  Burning  is  a  difficult  process, 
and  requires  watching  closely.  Sand  is  thrown  upon  the  fire 
when  it  seems  to  burn  too  rapidly. 

While  the  morality  of  the  Martinez  Indians  is  good,  there  are 
cases  that  arise  occasionally  that  require  considerable  care  in 
the  handling.  For  instance,  the  alcalde  of  1905  had  a  family 
of  six  children.  In  addition  he  cared  for  his  father  and  mother. 
Near  the  end  of  the  year  the  husband  of  his  oldest  daughter 
died,  leaving  her  with   four  children.     This   daughter  and  her 


A  Coahuilla 

squaw 


246         The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


children  came  home,  thus  making  in  all  a  family  of  twelve  for 
the  alcalde  to  care  for.  His  second  daughter  was  about  twelve 
years  of  age,  not  yet  having  come  to  puberty.  She  felt  the  bur- 
den her  father  was  bearing,  and  when  a  young  man  of  some 
eighteen  years  offered  her  a  home,  she  accepted  it,  and  went 
to  live  with  him.  Her  father  could  not  persuade  her  to  return 
and  he  went  to  see  the  missionary  about  it,  who  at  once  com- 
municated with  the  Indian  agent,  and  also  his  own  superintend- 
ent whose  word  has  great  power  with 
most  of  the  Indians  of  this  reserva- 
tion. Immediately  letters  were  re- 
ceived from  the  agent  and  superin- 
tendent, the  former  demanding  the  «——--—  j^idian  dogs 
immediate  return  of  the  girl  to  her 

home,  and  the  other  suggesting  the  same  thing.  Though  very 
angry,  the  young  man  deemed  discretion  the  better  part  of  valor, 
especially  as  he  was  informed  that  if  he  were  patient  for  a 
couple  of  years,  and  the  girl  then  wished  to  marry  him,  all  ob- 
jections would  cease. 

Tattooing  used  to  be  universal  among  them.  The  thorn  of 
the  mesquite  tree  was  used  to  make  the  puncture,  after  which 
the  bruised  leaves  of  the  same  tree  were  rubbed  into  the  holes 
until  the  juice  soaked  in.     Then  the  juice  of  the  leaf  was  forced 

into  the   flesh    by    making 
the  puncture  deeper.     The 
color  thus  produced  was  a 
very  deep  green.     A  few  of 
the  older  men  and  women 
are  still  found  bearing  the 
tattoo.      Others    have    re- 
moved it.     They    inform    me    that    the    marks    are    effaced    by 
repacking   them    and    letting    out  the   blood.     As   soon   as   the 
pricks   heal   the  color  disappears. 

A  study  of  the  native  plants,  grasses,  seeds,  roots,  and  fruits 
used  by  the  Indians  as  food  and  medicine  is  most  interesting, 
and  Dr.  D.  P.  Barrows  has  gone  over  the  ground  in  a  fairly 
exhaustive  manner  in  his  "Ethno-Botany  of  the  Coahuilla 
Indians."     Here  are  a  few  additional  facts. 


Indian  doe 


The  Indians  of  the  Desert 


247 


Indian 
chicken 
house 


One  of  the  chief  plants  used  for  medicine  is  the  metch-o-wol. 
Its  leaves  are  supposed  to  be  efficacious  in  curing  sore  throat, 
and  an  infusion  from  its  root  is  considered  good  for  a  cold.  The 
leaves  are  taken  and  well  soaked  in  a  pan  of  boiling  water. 
Then  the  patient  kneels  down  with  his  head  over  the  pan  con- 
taining the  infusion.  A  blanket  is  thrown  over  the  head  and 
then  a  red-hot  rock  is  dropped  into  the  liquor.  The  steam  is 
thus  breathed  in  through  the  mouth  and  nostrils  and  the  sore 
throat  soon  disappears. 

The  root  is  cut  into  pieces  about  the  size  of  a  lima  bean,  and 
then  boiled  for  twenty  minutes  to  an  hour.  The  patient  drinks 
a  spoonful  or  so  of  the  infusion  every  hour.  While  the  older 
people  still  believe  in  the  efficacy  of  these  medicines,  the  young 
ones  are  unanimous  in  pro- 
nouncing them  "no  good." 

In  the  same  category  of 
uselessness  they  place  the 
sweat-bath  of  the  elders. 
This  is  taken  not  oftener 
than  once  a  month,  and 
never  by  the  young.  A 
small  hut  is  kept  for  the 
purpose.     It  is  a  rude  frame 

covered  with  mesquite  bark,  fan-palm  leaves,  mud,  etc.,  to 
make  it  retain  the  heat.  In  the  center  a  fire  is  lit  and  when 
the  heat  is  intense  two  or  three  persons  in  a  nude  condition 
sit  down  around  the  fire  until  they  perspire  freely.  When 
they  come  out  they  wrap  themselves  up  in  blankets  and  lie  in 
the  hot  sun,  still  sweating,  and  when  by  and  by  the  sweat- 
ing ceases  and  the  body  is  dry  they  wash  themselves  off  with 
hot  water.  For  soap  they  use  the  leaves  of  a  plant  called  seh'-wel, 
which,  when  bruised  and  rubbed  in  hot  water,  produces  a  fine 
lather.  In  washing  clothes  the  sehwel  leaves  are  not  only  rich 
in  saponaceous  qualities,  but  they  help  whiten  them,  having  an 
effect  somewhat  similar  to  that  of  bluing. 

With  these  Indians,  as  with  us,  medicine  and  medicine-men 
alike  often  fail  to  heal,  and  death  ensues.  They  bury  their  dead 
after  a  ceremonial  of  wailing  that  is  as  piteous  as  it  is  pathetic. 


248 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


The  wail  of  mourners  on  the  desert  seems  to  have  greater 
potency  than  elsewhere.  Shrill  and  loud,  it  seems  to  pierce  the 
stars  and  reach  to  the  far-away  edges  of  the  wilderness,  striking 
the  mountain  slopes  with  its  wild  frenzy  and  falling  back  in 
slightly  diminished  power  to  echo  and  reecho  among  the  cliffs 
and  up  the  canyons.  The  Indian  wailing  for  her  dead!  It  is 
the  articulate  voice  of  sorrow  of  the  ages,  the  cry  of  the  aborigine 
against  the  unbearable  hand  of  Fate. 

While  there  is  little  or  no  music  in  the  conventional  wailing 
of  the  Indians,  there  are  times,  both  of  sorrow  and  of  rejoicing, 
when  they  indulge  in  their  primitive  music.  At  such  times  I 
feel  as  if  I  were  being  taken  back  to  the  very  beginning  of  the 
world.     These    simple    and    primitive    songs    bring    before    me 


Indian 
horses 


Abraham  and  Isaac  and  Jacob  and  Noah  and  all  the  Hebrew 
patriarchs.  I  can  imagine  such  songs  being  sung  when  the 
flood  came,  and  when  the  ark  finally  settled  on  Mount  Ararat 
and  the  family  of  Noah  came  out  of  the  ark.  It  is  a  wonderful 
thing  to  hear  primitive  music,  sung  in  primitive  fashion,  by  a 
primitive  people  when  they  imagine  themselves  alone. 

The  mesquite  bean,  men'-a-kish,  and  screw  bean,  queen'-yl, 
are  two  of  their  chief  articles  of  diet.  The  granary  in  which 
their  supply  is  stored  is  made  of  willow  and  arrow-weed  and  is 
called  pen'-a-vat.  These  granaries  are  three  and  four  feet  in 
diameter,  and  are  generally  made  by  the  men.  They  stand 
about  two  and  one-half  to  three  feet  in  height  and  are  placed 
on  platforms,  in  order  that  predatory  animals  and  vermin  may 
not  set  to  their  contents. 


The  Indians  of  the  Desert  249 

To  make  a  food  or  drink  of  the  beans  they  are  pounded  in  a 
wooden  mortar,  generally  made  from  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  hollowed 
out  as  far  as  needed  with  a  stone  axe.  As  soon  as  the  beans 
are  pounded  into  meal,  this  is  sifted  through  a  basket  screen. 
The  flour  is  then  put  into  a  basket  or  pail  and  water  sprinkled 
over  it,  where  it  remains  for  two  or  three  days.  By  this  time  it 
is  hard  and  ready  to  eat. 

For  drink  the  flour  is  soaked  a  few  minutes,  the  liquor,  ka'-hat, 
is  then  poured  off  and  drank.     It  is  never  allowed  to  ferment. 

For  candy,  pah'-vas-ni-at' ,  the  flour  is  especially  chosen  from 
well-ripened  beans  and  ground  exceedingly  fine.  It  is  made 
the  same  as  the  bread. 

In  preparing  barley  for  food  they  dampen  it  a  little,  pound  it 
in  a  mortar,  and  then,  placing  it  in  a  saucer-shaped  basket, 
shake  the  basket  and  toss  the  barley  up  and  down  with  a 
peculiar  circular  motion.  Soon  the  hulls  are  edged  off  and  drop 
to  the  ground,  while  the  grain  is  gathered  together  toward  the 
operator.  It  is  an  interesting  process,  for  the  dexterity  of  move- 
ment is  remarkable. 

It  is  only  within  comparatively  recent  times  that  we  have 
learned  of  the  rich  treasure-house  of  legend,  myth,  and  story  the 
Indians'  memory  is.  These  stories  have  been  handed  down 
from  the  "old  times,"  and  reveal  the  mental  processes  of  the 
Indian  as  nothing  else  can. 

Captain  Poncho  gave  me  the  following  Coahuilla  story  of  the 
advent  of  man  and  of  the  creation  of  the  earth:  "In  the  long, 
long  ago,  before  the  world  was  created,  there  was  nothing  but 
darkness  and  lightning.  For  a  long  period  of  time  it  would  be 
all  dark,  and  then  suddenly,  with  ilash  and  zigzag,  the  fierce 
brilliancy  of  the  lightning  would  strike  through  the  darkness. 
Once  these  flashes  and  zigzags  struck  so  often  that  they  formed 
an  egg,  which  grew  bigger  and  bigger  until  it  was  fully  as  large 
around  as  a  big  man  is  tall.  There  were  two  babies  in  that 
egg.  There  was  nothing  to  hold  up  the  egg  but  the  air,  yet  it 
floated  until  the  babies  grew  bigger  and  bigger,  so  that  they 
knew  things.  When  they  were  old  enough  to  know  things  they 
thought  they  would  break  their  shell  and  come  out,  and  one  of 
them   did   so.     As   soon   as   he   broke   his   half  of  the   shell   and 


250 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


emerged,  he  exclaimed,  'I'm  the  oldest!'  The  other  said,  'No! 
I'm  the  oldest!  But  if  you  are  older  than  I,  go  ahead  and  make 
something  for  us  to  stand  on.  We  can't  float  around  here  in 
this  rotten  egg-shell  forever  and  by  and  by  it  will  give  way  and 
we  shall  sink  and  sink  until  we  go  nowhere  and  that  will  be  the 
end  of  us.' 

"'I  shall  not  obey  you/  said  the  first  one  to  emerge.  'You 
are  younger  than  I,  so  you  must  do  what  I  tell  you!' 

"  'No!  You  are  the  one  to  do  it  because  you  claim  to  be  older 
than  I.  You  make  something  to  stand  on.  The  fact  is,  you 
can't  make  anything!' 

"This  taunt  angered  the  older  one,  so  he  exclaimed,  'You 
think  I  cannot  make  anything.  I  will  make  the  earth;'  and  he 
at  once  proceeded  to  make  the  earth  and  the  people  to  live  upon 


M^m^&m^ 

Corral  at  Martinez 


it.  But  there  was  no  sun  and  no  moon  and  everything  was 
dark  and  the  people  cried  for  light.  So  the  older  said  to  the 
younger,  'Make  some  light  for  the  people  to  see  by,'  and  the 
younger  one  made  the  stars.  But  that  was  not  enough.  They 
gave  but  little  light  and  the  people  cried  out  for  more  light. 
Then  the  older  one  said  to  the  younger,  'Your  light  is  not  enough. 
Make  more.'  So  in  obedience  the  younger  made  the  moon. 
But  there  was  still  not  enough  light,  and  when  the  people  com- 
plained the  older  said  to  the  younger  for  the  third  time,  'Make 
more  light!'  This  time,  however,  the  younger  brother  refused. 
He  said,  'I  have  made  all  the  light  there  is,  and  I  do  not  intend 
to  make  any  more.  You  command  me  to  make  the  light  be- 
cause you  don't  know  how  to  make  it  yourself.'  This  taunt 
made  the  elder  brother  fiercely  angry  and  he  cried  out,  'Do  I 
not  know?  Look!'  And  with  a  swift  stroke  of  anger  he  created 
the  sun,  which  has  ever  since  made  light  for  the  whole  world. 


The  Indians  of  the  Desert 


251 


"The  younger  one  recognized  his  brother's  power,  but  con- 
soled himself  by  saying  as  he  walked  away,  'Well,  he  would 
never  have  made  such  a  great  light  as  the  sun,  unless  I  had  first 
showed  him  the  way.'" 

In  the  early  days  the  Martinez  Indians  used  to  have  a  fire- 
dance.  A  few  of  the  medicine-men  made  a  large  bonfire,  around 
which  they  danced  in  an  almost  naked  condition,  singing  the 
while  their  songs  and  incantations.  When  the  flames  died  down 
and  only  the  bed  of  incandescent  coals  was  left  they  walked  right 
into  the  center  of  the  hot  mass  and  remained  there  for  several 
minutes,  suffering  neither  injury  nor  inconvenience  therefrom. 


:<*;,'■& 


Watering  place 
at  Torres 


But  this  power 

seems  now  to 
..  '  be  lost.  There 
are  but  two 
old  medicine-men, 
Ignacio  Ormega  and  Juan 
Pedro,  and  the  extent  of 
their  fire  charms  consists 
merely  in  taking  live  coals  into  their  mouths  and  then  breathing 
out  flames  and  smoke.  Occasionally  a  fire-dance  is  now  given, 
but  as  both  the  priest  and  the  pastor  of  the  Moravian  mission 
are  opposed  to  it,  and  most  of  the  people  attend  one  church 
or  the  other,  the  dance  has  fallen  into  disrepute  and  will  un- 
doubtedly soon  disappear. 

On  the  map,  to  the  southwest  of  Mecca,  will  be  noticed  the  name 
Fig  Tree  John's.  This  is  the  home  of  an  Indian  who  receives  his 
name  from  the  fact  that  he  has  a  number  of  fig  trees  planted 
around  the  springs  upon  which  he  has  been  located  for  many 
years.  The  water  has  demonstrated  the  rich  fertility  of  the 
soil  and  his  trees  have  grown  until  they  are  large  and  bear  well. 
Thirty  of  his  trees  are  fully  thirty  years  old,  and  he  has  a  smaller 


252         The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

orchard  of  younger  trees.  He  claims  to  have  started  the  orchard 
himself  from  the  cuttings  of  a  tree  which  he  found  at  some  de- 
serted settlement.  His  figs  are  among  the  finest  and  earliest 
in  Southern  California,  and  are  about  the  size  and  shape  of  a 
turkey's  egg.  They  ripen  early  in  May,  and  in  the  Los  Angeles 
market  they  bring  about  twenty-five  cents  a  pound.  The  figs 
on  my  own  trees  at  Pasadena  this  year,  1906,  did  not  ripen  until 
the  middle  of  August,  so  that  the  advantage  of  Fig  Tree  John's 
early  shipments  will  be  evident. 


The  Stage  Line  Across  the  Desert  253 


CHAPTER  XVI 

The  Stage  Line  Across  the  Desert 

ESISTLESSLY  progress  marches  in  every  new  country 
where  the  Anglo-Saxon  sets  his  foot.  The  Army 
of  the  West  crossed  the  Colorado  River  from  Yuma 
to  San  Diego  in  1846  to  find  California  already 
l£  enrolled  under  the1  United  States  flag;  the  battle 
of  San  Pasqual  was  fought  December  6  and  7, 1 846 ; 
P.  St.  George  Cooke,  with  the  Mormon  Battalion, 
came  through  a  month  later  (in  January,  1847)  and 
gave  his  name  to  Cookes  Wells;  gold  was  discovered  next  year, 
January  24,  and  by  the  end  of  1848  the  world's  gaze  was  turned 
to  the  new  Eldorado.  In  1849  the  real  exodus  began,  and,  as 
Sonora  was  nearer  to  California  than  any  other  well-peopled 
country,  the  Sonoranian  emigration  was  the  first  in  the  field. 
For  three-quarters  of  a  century  California  had  held  direct  in- 
tercourse—  more  or  less  frequent — with  Sonora  and  the  route 
was  fairly  well  known,  by  way  of  Tubac,  Tucson,  the  Gila 
Valley,  across  the  Colorado  River  and  the  Colorado  Desert, 
either  to  the  mission  of  San  Diego,  over  the  lower  road,  or  to 
the  mission  of  San  Luis  Rey,  through  the  San  Felipe  Pass,  while 
a  third  road  went  up  by  Indio  and  Palm  Springs,  over  the  San 
Gorgonio  Pass,  to  mission  San  Gabriel. 

From  1850  to  1853,  J.  R.  Bartlett  was  engaged  in  determining 
the  boundary  line  between  Mexico  and  the  United  States,  and  he 
fully  describes  the  route  from  San  Diego  to  Yuma  by  way  of 
San  Pasqual,  Warner's  Ranch,  and  San  Felipe,  thence  by  Cam- 
eron Lake  to  the  Colorado  River. 

In  September,  1853,  Arizona  was  purchased  from  Mexico, 
under  the  Gadsden  treaty;  in  1853-54,  Jefferson  Davis,  then 
Secretary  of  State,  ordered  a  survey  of  the  country  west  of  the 
Mississippi  in  order  to  find  the  best  railroad  route  to  the  Pacific, 


254 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


and  in  accordance  with  his  instructions  Lieutenant  Williamson 
and  his  aids  made  surveys  of  the  country  from  Los  Angeles 
south  to  San  Diego  and  from  both  points  to  Yuma,  thus  cover- 
ing the  southern  and  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass  routes  over  the 
Colorado  Desert. 

In  1854-55  the  new  boundary  survey  was  made,  including 
Arizona,  by  Major  Emory  and  Lieutenant  Michler,  and  when 
Arizona  mines  began  to  be  developed,  as  they  did  about  this 
time,  the  slow  methods  of  wagon  transportation  were  found 
inadequate  to  meet  the  needs. 

During  the  whole  of  this  period  immigration  travel  was  de- 
sultory and   irregular,  people   coming 
in  with  their  own  wagons  and  gen- 
erally returning  by  the  Isthmus. 


An  early-day 


stage-coach 


In  August  and  September,  1857,  the  San  Diego  and  San  An- 
tonio semimonthly  stage  line  was  established,  under  the  direc- 
tion of  I.  C.  Woods.  James  Burch  was  contractor.  This  con- 
tinued in  spite  of  the  bad  habit  contracted  by  the  Indians  of 
personally  undertaking  to  distribute  not  only  the  mails,  but  the 
dead  bodies  of  the  mail  carriers,  the  mail  coaches,  and  the 
stock,  over  the  plains,  and  the  occasional  playful  acts  of  im- 
paling the  station  keepers  with  arrows  and  spears,  and  burning 
the  stage  stations. 

But  the  pressure  upon  Congress  now  was  so  great  for  a  regular 
mail  service  to  California  that  one  of  the  last  acts  of  the  Congress 
sitting  at  the  termination  of  the   Pierce  administration  was  to 


The  Stage  Line  Across  the  Desert  255 

authorize  the  Postmaster-General  to  establish  a  postal  route 
between  the  Mississippi  River  and  San  Francisco,  California, 
for  a  period  of  six  years.  Advertisements  were  published  asking 
for  bids,  but  limiting  the  amounts  to  not  more  than  $300,000 
per  year  for  semimonthly,  $450,000  for  weekly,  or  $600,000 
for  semiweekly  service.  The  bids  were  opened  on  the  first  of 
July,  1857.  There  were  nine  bids  in  all.  It  was  decided  not 
to  use  the  northern  routes,  as  the  Post-office  Department  already 
had  had  large  and  distressing  experiences  on  those  routes  ow- 
ing to  snows.  As  for  instance,  the  mails  for  November,  1850, 
by  way  of  Salt  Lake,  did  not  reach  their  California  destination 
until  March,  1851,  owing  to  the  unprecedented  falls  of  snow  in 
the  Sierras  that  winter. 

On  the  second  of  July,  1857,  the  Postmaster-General  accepted 
the  bid  and  made  the  order  for  the  route  "from  St.  Louis,  Mis- 
souri, and  from  Memphis,  Tennessee,  converging  at  Little  Rock, 
Arkansas;  thence  via  Preston,  Texas,  or  as  nearly  as  may  be 
found  advisable,  to  the  best  point  of  crossing  the  Rio  Grande 
above  El  Paso,  and  not  far  from  Fort  Fillmore;  thence  along  the 
new  road  being  opened  and  constructed  under  the  direction  of 
the  Secretary  of  the  Interior,  to  Fort  Yuma,  California;  thence 
through  the  best  passes  and  along  the  best  valleys  for  safe  and 
expeditious  staging,  to  San  Francisco." 

It  took  a  year  to  get  the  line  in  operation  and  on  September 
15,  1858,  the  overland  letter  mail,  in  four  and  six  horse  and  mule 
coaches,  left  St.  Louis  and  San  Francisco  simultaneously  on  their 
long  trip  across  the  country.  The  schedule  time  was  twenty- 
five  days,  three  days  less  than  that  of  the  ocean  route  by  way  of 
Panama. 

The  line  was  finely  equipped,  there  being  over  100  specially 
constructed  Concord  coaches,  1,000  horses,  500  mules,  and  750 
men,  of  whom  about  150  were  employed  as  drivers. 

The  fare  was  $100  in  gold  for  each  passenger,  whether  he 
were  a  Tom  Thumb,  a  Falstaff,  or  a  Daniel  Lambert.  Six 
passengers  went  through  from  San  Francisco  to  St.  Louis  on  the 
first  stage,  and  their  arrival  at  St.  Louis  was  considered  a 
great  public  occasion.  In  San  Francisco  the  rejoicing  was  on 
a  gigantic  scale.      The  long-hoped-for,  dreamed-of,   and   desired 


256  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

overland  mail  was  now  a  reality  and  the  pioneers  showed  their 
joy  and  appreciation  in  a  great  round  of  festivities. 

The  line  was  known  as  the  "Buttei  field  Overland  Mail." 
It  was  the  longest  continuous  line  ever  organized  and  the 
best  operated.  It  ran  twice  a  week,  under  a  six  years'  contract 
with  the  Postmaster-General,  at  a  subsidy  of  $600,000  per  year. 
Considering  the  difficulties,  it  was  one  of  the  most  wonderful 
private  enterprises  of  history.  To  span  the  continent,  and  in 
so  doing  ford  treacherous  rivers  where  changing  quicksands 
made  every  trip  dangerous,  and  floods  often  carried  away  horses, 
coaches,  and  drivers;  traverse  barren,  sandy  deserts  where  water 
and  feed  had  to  be  provided  for  both  man  and  beast,  and  where 
moving  sand-hills,  heat,  and  storm  often  rendered  travel  im- 
possible; cross  towering  mountains  where,  in  winter,  deep  snows 
buried  roads  twenty,  fifty,  and  even  a  hundred  feet  out  of  sight; 
through  marshy  quagmires  where  miles  of  road  had  to  be  con- 
structed of  corduroy;  through  dense  forests  where  wild  animals 
lurked;  and  where,  from  one  end  to  the  other,  the  sole  reliance 
was  upon  the  grit  and  nerve  of  man  and  the  endurance  of  horse- 
flesh; in  spite  of  a  score  of  hostile  tribes,  all  of  whom  seemed 
to  concentrate  their  efforts  to  stop  this  new  movement  of  their 
white  foe,  —  I  say  to  span  the  continent,  a  distance  of  nearly 
two  thousand  five  hundred  miles,  in  twenty-four  and,  later, 
twenty-one  days,  was  a  feat  of  which  man  might  well  be  proud. 
That  it  ran  well  is  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  the  Los  Angeles 
Star  records  that  it  came  in  ahead  of  time,  and  had  flaming 
head-lines  calling  for  "A  Hundred  Guns  for  the  Overland 
Mail,  Twenty  Days  from  St.  Louis."  But  as  J.  M.  Guinn 
says:  "The  sleepy  old  city  could  not  keep  awake.  The  next 
issue  of  the  Star  says:  'The  Overland  Mail  arrived  at  midnight. 
There  was  no  one  in  the  post-office  to  receive  it,  and  it  was  car- 
ried on  to  San  Francisco,'  to  be  returned  six  days  later,  with  all 
the  freshness  of  the  news  gone."  The  route  from  Los  Angeles 
was  by  El  Monte,  Temecula,  Warner's  Ranch,  Vallecita,  and 
Alamo  Mocho  to  Yuma. 

The  roads  over  which  the  stages  traveled  were  all  natural. 
There  were  no  "made"  roads,  save  in  a  few  isolated  places 
over  steep  grades,  or  where  a  marsh  had  to  be  "corduroyed." 


The  Stage  Line  Across  the  Desert 


257 


And  it  is  the  same  on  the  desert  to-day.  As  soon  as  a  road  be- 
comes too  deeply  rutted  or  too  muddy,  the  driver  strikes  out 
and  makes  a  new  road  for  himself,  and  the  result  is  some  regions 
are  cut  up  with  diverse  roads  all  made  during  a  period,  say,  of 
wet  weather  to  avoid  too  much  mud,  or  some  peculiarly  bad 
place. 

While  the  Butterfield  line  was  in  successful  operation,  running 
its  biweekly  stages,  a  monthly  mail  line  was  plying  between 
St.  Louis  and  Salt  Lake,  and  it  was  soon  to  become  the  main 
line  and  the  forerunner  of  the  first  overland  railway.  Trouble 
with  the  South  was  pending  and   finally  the  Civil  War  broke 


■in  abandoned 
light  stage 
for  swift  work 


J':r 


,__sV£ 


3     $ 


out.  Almost  immediately  the  Butterfield  line  went  out  of 
commission. 

The  Confederates  levied  on  all  the  stock,  etc.,  on  the  east 
end  of  the  line,  and  the  Apaches  and  other  Indians,  who  had 
been  making  constant  endeavors  to  drive  the  stage-coach  line 
out  of  the  country,  seeing  the  change  in  affairs,  even  though 
they  did  not  understand  the  cause,  seized  the  opportunity  and 
stole  all  the  stock  and  furnishings,  burnt  and  pillaged  the  sta- 
tions and  as  far  as  possible  wiped  out  every  vestige  of  the  Over- 
land Mail  at  the  western  end. 

On  the  twelfth  of  March,  1 86 1,  the  southern  overland  route  was 
ordered  discontinued  and  a  bonus  of  one  month's  extra  pay  given 
to  the  contractors.     St.    Joseph,  Missouri,  was   selected    as   the 

Vol.  I.— 17 


258         The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

starting  point  for  the  new  line,  and  it  operated  as  the  "Central 
Overland  California  and  Pike's  Peak  Express"  (abbreviated  to 
C.  O.  C.  &  P.  P.),  via  Atchison,  Kansas,  Salt  Lake  City,  and 
Placerville,  California.  July  i,  i86i,it  went  into  operation  as  a 
daily  line,  and  thenceforth  the  southern  line  was  practically  aban- 
doned. For  in  1863,  when  J.  Ross  Browne  was  invited  by 
Charles  D.  Poston,  the  first  Indian  agent  for  Arizona,  to  go 
from  Oakland  with  him  on  a  trip  through  Arizona,  they  had  to 
rely  upon  personal  conveyances,  though  the  government  supplied 
an  escort  of  five  soldiers  and  an  officer,  as  well  as  mules  for  the 
ambulance  and  rations  for  the  soldiers. 

At  the  close  of  the  war,  when  matters  were  more  settled,  a 
freight  and  passenger  service  was  organized  by  the  Hooper- 
Whiting  Company  of  Yuma.  Vessels  plied  between  San  Fran- 
cisco and  other  California  points,  and  sailed  into  the  Gulf  of 
California  and  thence  up  the  Colorado  River  to  Yuma.  For 
many  years  the  main  bulk  of  supplies  for  the  Arizona  miners 
and  those  located  on  the  river  above  Yuma  came  this  way  and 
stage  service  on  the  southerly  route,  by  Warner's  Ranch,  was 
desultory  and  finally  abandoned. 

In  1872  the  stage  from  Prescott  to  Los  Angeles  came  by  way 
of  Ehrenberg,  Chuckwalla,  Indio,  Palm  Springs,  and  the  San 
Gorgonio  Pass.  P.  W.  Dooner,  who  came  to  Los  Angeles  in 
hat  year  by  stage,  tells  of  his  first  stop  on  the  desert  at  Chuck- 
walla. This  was  then,  says  he,  "a  station  where  refreshments 
and  lodging  are  supposed  to  be  furnished.  The  place  was  just 
about  as  classic  in  its  surroundings  as  the  jingle  of  its  name 
would  suggest.  We  came  upon  the  scene  at  a  moment  when  all 
the  indications  pointed  to  a  recent  domestic  calamity.  We  were 
informed  by  the  driver  that  the  occupant  was  blessed  by  an 
Indian  wife,  taken  according  to  Indian  rites,  and  that  unhappy 
differences  of  opinion  had  agitated  the  domestic  hearth  within 
the  period  of  twenty-four  hours  which  had  deprived  the  estab- 
lishment of  its  mistress,  and  which  would  materially  affect  the 
accommodations  of  the  place.  A  notice  which  had  just  been 
posted  in  a  conspicuous  place  upon  the  outer  front  wall  of  the 
family  hut  gave  the  only  other  information  that  we  could  gather 
concerning  the  family  trouble.     This  was  scrawled  in  plain  but 


The  Stage  Line  Across  the  Desert 


259 


uncouth  letters  —  Roman  and  script  intermixed  —  and  was  care- 
fully copied  into  my  diary.     It  reads  as  follows: 

"'Notice:  —  An  oldish  squaw  about  30;  blind  in  one  eye  — 
the  left  one;  a  slight  halt  in  one  leg;  a  thoroughbred.  She  has 
abandoned  the  ranch,  and  any  one  who  will  get  her  back  will 
receive  two  sacks  of  mesquite  beans.' 

"We  were  detained  here  for  some  four  hours,  and  up  to  the 
time  of  our  departure  no  person  had  come  to  claim  the  prof- 
fered reward. 

"From  Chuckwalla  westward  was  the  usual  desert  journey, 
undisturbed  by  incident,  but  still  an  experience  that  must  have 
been  undergone  in  order  to  be  appreciated.  No  words  can  con- 
vey an  adequate  conception  of  the  desolation  of  the  mid-desert 
region.     The  stillness  and  silence  are  unbroken  by  any  motion 


or  sound  except  it  be  the  vibration  of  the  palpitating  air  under 
the  torrid  heat,  or  the  voice  of  the  driver  as  he  urges  the  weary 
mules  to  renewed  exertion.  In  one  direction  the  view  is  swal- 
lowed up  in  the  mirage,  or  exhausts  itself  over  an  endless  ex- 
panse of  sand,  and  in  the  opposite  direction  a  reddish  brown 
sandstone  bluff*  rims  the  horizon.  Of  indigenous  life  there  is 
none  at  all  —  nothing  but  sky  and  sand  and  sweltering  heat. 
One  might  reasonably  suppose  that  the  twilight  hour  would 
bring  some  relief  from  the  oppressive  heat,  but,  while  the  tem- 
perature of  the  night  may  have  been  much  lower  than  that  of 
the  day,  there  was  always  some  compensating  influence  in  the 
atmosphere  of  the  night  that  made  such  change  hardly,  if  at  all, 
perceptible.  The  night  breeze,  if  such  there  happened  to  be, 
was  invariably  so  warm  as  to  make  it  much  more  comfortable 
to  screen  the  face  from  its  contact  than  to  invite  exposure  to  its 


260 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


biting  influence;  while,  in  a  calm,  the  constant  radiation  of  heat 
from  the  burning  sands  of  the  preceding  hours  of  day  main- 
tained the  atmosphere  at  a  temperature  always  above  the  normal 
heat  of  the  body." 

As  is  recounted  in  other  chapters  the  old  stage  stations  of  the 
desert  still  stand,  some  in  ruins  and  deserted,  others  used  as 
ranch-houses  or  present-day  stopping  places  for  miners  and  pros- 
pectors. Many  are  the  stories  that  travelers  tell  as  to  what 
occurred  in  the  old  days  at  these  stations. 

A  lady  friend  of  mine,  the  wife  of  a  former  U.  S.  Army  officer, 
once  took  the  journey  from  San  Francisco  to  Tucson.  She 
well  remembers  stopping  at  one  of  the  stations  on  the  Colorado 


Modem  visitors  on  the  desert 


Desert  after  the  Indians  had  made  a  raid  and  cleaned  out  the 
commissary  department.  The  meal  had  to  be  cooked  and  served 
by  the  station-keeper,  and  as  he  came  to  the  table  with  a  bat- 
tered, grimy,  and  unclean  looking  coffee-pot,  and  stood  at  her 
elbow,  he  asked,  "Will  yer  have  cofFee,  tea,  cocoa,  chocolate,  or 
milk?"  Then  apparently  as  an  afterthought  he  exclaimed, 
"Yer'll  have  to  take  cofFee,  damit,  for  that's  all  there  is." 

Mr.  J.  L.  Vosburgh,  of  Los  Angeles,  came  from  St.  Louis,  Mis- 
souri, to  Los  Angeles,  California,  on  the  Butterfield  stages.  Said  he 
in  a  recent  conversation:  "Those  were  strenuous  days  for  travelers 
as  compared  with  the  ease  of  Pullman  travel  to-day,  but  all  hard- 
ships and  inconveniences  were  taken,  as  a  rule,  in  the  spirit  of 
fun.     We  looked  upon  them  as  fit  subjects  for  jokes,  and  the 


The  Stage  Line  Across  the  Desert  261 

travelers  who  complained  and  whined  were  generally  either 
guyed  unmercifully,  scored  by  the  driver,  or  left  severely  alone. 
I  well  remember  stopping  at  one  station,  the  keeper  of  which 
shall  be  nameless.  We  found  him  in  an  awfully  disagreeable 
mood.  The  stage-driver  'jollied'  him  a  good  deal,  without  re- 
moving the  dark  pall  of  gloom  and  moroseness  that  had  settled 
on  his  countenance.  He  had  warned  us  beforehand  to  look  out 
for  'fun'  when  he  mentioned  'cats.'  Accordingly  when  he 
asked,  'How's  your  cats?  All  gone?'  and  received  no  reply, 
and  then  turned  to  us,  and,  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eyes, 

assured  us  that  'H shoots  all  the  cats  he  can  find  and  serves 

them  up  to  poor  hungry  travelers  as  rabbits,'  we  were  all  alert 
for  something,  we  hardly  knew  what.  But  we  were  not  pre- 
pared to  see  H reach  for  his  revolver,  and  with  a  curse  for 

his  tormentor  seek  to  shoot,  which  he  certainly  would  have 
done,  had  not  I,  who  happened  to  be  nearest  to  him,  taken  the 
revolver  from  him.  It  afterwards  transpired  that  the  poor  fel- 
low's daughter  had  that  day  run  away  with  a  Texan  without 
saying,  'By  your  leave,'  or  'Give  me  your  blessing,'  and  he  was 
in  no  joking  humor." 

Mr.  Vosburgh  then  told  of  another  trip  he  made  from  Yuma 
over  the  sandy  wastes  where  he  saw  the  heads  and  horns  of  a 
large  number  of  cattle  sticking  out  of  the  drifted  sand.  A 
cattleman  had  started  with  a  band  of  six  hundred  fine  steers  for 
the  Los  Angeles  market  from  Southern  Texas.  It  was  a  long, 
hot  drive  to  Yuma,  but  having  reached  the  Colorado  River  and 
crossed  it  in  safety,  though  his  animals  were  very  weary,  their 
owner  had  begun  to  congratulate  himself  that  the  worst  part 
of  the  journey  was  over.  A  few  days  later  he  was  able  to  tell 
another  story.  The  desert  had  tried  the  poor  creatures  fear- 
fully and  they  were  compelled  to  camp  one  evening  without 
water.  The  herders  comforted  themselves  with  the  assurances 
that  they  had  received  that  they  would  be  able  to  water  before 
noon  the  next  day,  and  themselves  stretched  out  to  rest,  as  the 
extreme  exhaustion  of  the  wearied  cattle  satisfied  them  that  there 
was  little  fear  of  a  runaway  or  stampede  that  night.  During 
the  late  hours  a  sand-storm  arose  of  such  dreadful  furv  that  every 
effort  of  the  cowboys  to  compel  the  herd  to  get  up  and  resume 


262 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


the  march  was  in  vain.  The  poor  creatures,  too  tired  to  battle 
against  the  drifting  sand,  allowed  it  to  rise  around  them,  and 
when  at  last  they  themselves  seemed  to  realize  that  they  must 
make  an  effort  to  extricate  themselves  or  they  would  perish,  it 
was  too  late,  and  when  morning  dawned  it  found  the  cattleman 
ruined,  his  herd  all  dead  or  dying,  and  a  mass  of  shapeless  forms 
with  here  and  there  a  protruding  head  or  pair  of  horns,  all  that 
remained  to  tell  of  what,  the  day  before,  had  seemed  to  be 
enough  to  bring  him  in  a  small  fortune. 


,^MW 


Old  stage-station  at  Vallecito 


Water  on  the  Desert 


263 


CHAPTER  XVII 


Water  on  the  Desert 


jOTHIXG  is  more  precious  to  either  the  desert 
denizen  or  the  desert  traveler  than  water. 
There  is  no  wonder  that  the  desert  tribes 
have  symbols  that  they  constantly  and 
persistently  force  upon  the  attention  of 
■  ,  their  gods  which  tell  of  their  love  for  and 
■',!/  need  of  water.  "Give  us  water,  more 
water,"  is  the  motive  of  these  inarticu- 
late prayers.  They  weave  the  zigzag  of 
the  lightning  into  their  blankets  and  baskets,  paint  it  upon  their 
leather  ornaments  and  articles  of  dress  and  upon  their  bodies, 
sprinkle  it  with  different  colored  sands  upon  their  sacred  altars  and 
sing,  dance,  and  pray  to  the  gods  controlling  the  "fire  connected 
with  rain"  —  the  lightning — that  they  may  be  propitiated  to  aid 
in  sending  the  needed  water.  They  weave  rainbows  in  their  bas- 
kets and  sprinkle  the  sacred  meal  before  the  altars  of  the  rain- 
bow gods  in  rainbow  shape  in  order  that  the  sky  may  again  be 
arched  by  this  beautiful  sign.  They  cherish  the  snake  as  the 
guardian  of  the  springs  and  watercourses,  for  is  he  not  always 
found  where  water  is  ?  and  is  not  his  winding,  sinuous  course  a 
living  type  of  the  winding,  sinuous  course  of  the  streams  ?  They 
paint  the  snake  on  their  girdles,  weave  him  into  their  blankets, 
mold  and  shape  him  in  silver  into  rings  and  bracelets  for  fingers 
and  wrists,  carve  his  effigy  out  of  stone,  and  represent  him  by 
numerous  hieroglyphics  upon  the  cliffs  and  cave-walls  of  their 
dwelling-places  and  camps.  They  have  their  snake  dances, 
which  are  solemn  prayers  for  rain,  and  their  flute  dances,  which 
are  petitions  that  the  springs  may  be  filled  up,  and  their  rain 
dances  and  songs,  which  have  the  same  objects  in  view. 

The  Indians  of  the  Colorado  Desert  not  only  discovered  and 


Water  on  the  Desert  265 

terraces  are  still  quite  distinct.  Since  other  water  supply  has 
been  found,  many  of  these  wells  have  become  more  or  less 
choked  up  with  sand  and  earth,  though  quite  a  number  are  still 
in  use  away  from  the  mountain  streams  and  the  artesian  flows. 

Blake  describes  (1853)  the  Indians  clustered  around  the  hot 
spring  at  Palm  Valley,  and  then  tells  ol  the  deep  well,  twelve 
miles  southeast,  where  his  party  camped  on  the  following  day: 
"It  was  at  the  base  of  a  high  sand-drift,  and  about  twenty-five 
feet  deep,  but  contained  only  a  little  water.  It  was  wide  at  the 
top,  but  became  smaller  towards  the  bottom,  being  a  funnel- 
shaped  depression.  The  water  was  obtained  by  means  of  steps 
cut  in  the  sides  of  the  pit,  the  clay  having  hardened  by  drying  so 
as  to  become  like  stone.  This  excavation  appeared  to  have 
been  made  by  the  hands  of  Indians,  for  there  were  no  marks  of 
implements,  and  the  clay  that  had  been  removed  appeared  to 
have  been  taken  out  while  very  moist  and  plastic.  The  open- 
ing to  the  well  was  shaded  by  several  mesquite  trees." 

Ever  since  the  advent  of  the  white  man  there  has  been  con- 
flict between  him  and  the  Indian  for  the  possession  of  the  springs, 
water-pockets,  and  streams  on  the  desert.  Outrages  innumerable, 
violence  incalculable,  hatred  immeasurable,  murders  unnum- 
bered have  been  the  result  of  this  conflict,  —  all  owing  to  the 
scarcity  of  this  precious  fluid.  Nor  has  war  between  red  and 
white  alone  been  an  evidence  of  water's  preciousness.  White 
men  have  cursed,  maimed,  wounded,  and  slain  each  other  times 
without  count  on  the  deserts  of  our  Southwest  because  water 
was  scarce.  Not  a  few  have  located  on  the  only  source  of  supply 
in  a  particularly  barren,  desolate,  desert  region,  and  by  force 
have  collected  large  toll  of  the  unfortunate  beings  whose  jour- 
neyings  led  them  over  this  inhospitable  road.  Men  have  been 
found,  knife  and  gun  in  hand,  slain  in  a  desperate  conflict  for 
possession  of  this  precious  supply. 

Early  day  travelers  and  prospectors  on  the  desert  were  en- 
tirely dependent  either  upon  the  favor  of  Indians  or  their  own 
skill  to  discover  water-holes,  "seeps,"  or  springs.  The  history 
of  the  tragedies  of  those  days  has  never  been  written  and  never 
will  be,  for  no  man  knoweth  how  many  lives  were  lost  in  the 
eager  search  for  wealth  prior  to  and  succeeding  the  great  gold 


266         The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

discovery  of  '49.  In  later  years  men  have  banded  together  a 
little  more.  There  has  been  a  kind  of  freemasonry  among 
prospectors.  They  have  told  each  other  where  water  was  to 
be  found.  Occasionally  a  man  would  find  himself  in  a  region 
which  promised  well  and  he  would  clean  out  a  good  sized  "tank," 
or  even  dig  a  well,  if  the  water  seemed  to  be  near  the  surface. 
But  not  until  recently  have  the  officials  of  the  counties  made 
any  endeavor  to  provide  water,  even  on  the  roads  more  often 
traveled.  On  the  county  road  going  north  from  Mecca  to  the 
Mohave  Desert  country,  twelve  miles  out  is  a  well  which  bears 
the  name  of  Shaver,  he  being  the  county  commissioner  under 
whose  direction  it  was  dug. 

At  Cottonwood,  some  miles  farther  on,  is  a  good  spring  or 
seep,  which  the  owners  of  the  Iron  Chief 
Mine  have  gone  to  considerable  expense  to 
conserve.  They  have  built  two  stone  and 
cement  reservoirs,  piped  the  water  into 
troughs  in  large  feed  corrals,  and  also 
erected  a  pumping  plant  to  force  the 
water  to  their  mine  some  twenty-five  to 
twenty-eight  miles  away. 

Four   miles   southwest  from  Cotton- 
Our  canteens  wood    is    Palm    Tree    Canyon,    where 

"Charley"  Anschultz  has  his  mining 
prospects.  Here  there  is  a  fair  supply  of  water  which  makes 
his  work  possible.  Without  the  water  he  would  either  have  to 
abandon  his  mining  endeavors  or  "pack"  water  over  the  trail 
from  Cottonwood  springs. 

Knowledge  of  the  few  water-holes,  springs,  and  wells  on  the 
desert  is  essential  to  the  prospector,  hence  it  is  singular,  to  say 
the  least,  that  no  more  definite  effort  has  been  made  by  the  desert 
county  officials  to  make  these  locations  better  known. 

As  I  show  in  a  later  chapter  on  Sign-boards  on  the  Desert, 
George  W.  Parsons,  of  the  Mining  Committee  of  the  Los  Angeles 

1  Since  the  above  was  written  this  well-known  desert  prospector  and  miner  has  come  to 
an  untimely  end.  Two  men  and  a  woman  stole  two  horses  from  Mecca  on  Sunday  night, 
September  9,  one  of  which  belonged  to  Anschultz.  The  next  morning  he  followed  the 
thieves,  alone,  and  indications  show  that  he  was  ambushed  and  murdered  when  he  came 
up  to  them. 


Water  on  the  Desert  267 

Chamber  of  Commerce,  has  been  agitating  a  concerted  move- 
ment to  this  end  for  some  years.  The  desert  wells  should  be 
cleaned  out,  covered  so  that  animals  will  not  fall  in  and  drown, 
and  buckets  and  ropes  provided  to  reach  the  water.  Then  signs 
should  be  erected  on  all  the  trails  giving  explicit  instructions 
how  to  reach  water  in  every  direction.  Regular  visits  should 
also  be  made  to  see  that  the  wells  are  kept  in  good  order.  River- 
side leads  the  state  in  this  regard,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  the  good 
work  will  continue  until  the  desert  wells  are  as  numerous  and 
easily  reached  as  they  should  be. 

But  even  on  the  line  of  the  railway,  where  water  can  be  had 
every  ten  to  fifteen  miles,  one  should  be  exceedingly  careful 
about  venturing  without  a  full  supply. 

The  reflection  of  the  heat  from  the  sand  is  so  intense  that  no 
person,  however  well  used  to  the  desert,  should  think  of  going 
unprovided  for  more  than  two  or  three  miles.  Men  have  started 
off,  in  perfect  derision  of  kind  cautions,  to  walk  along  the  rail- 
way track.  The  idea  that  any  man  could  not  walk  from  one 
station  to  another  on  a  railway  track  without  water  was  too 
preposterous  for  them  to  consider.  Yet  in  the  years  since  the 
railway  was  completed  in  1881  it  is  safe  to  say  fifty  men  have 
thus  lost  their  lives. 

The  most  careless  observer  can  scarcely  fail  to  notice  that 
each  train,  going  east  or  west,  over  the  desert,  has  its  own  water- 
car.  Eastward  water-cars  are  put  on  at  Indio  and  taken  as  far 
as  Mammoth  Tank,  and  westward  bound  the  engines  fill  up 
their  tender  and  then  hook  on  the  water-car  at  Mammoth,  drop- 
ping it  at  Indio.  Freight  and  passenger  trains  alike  are  thus 
compelled  to  draw  their  own  water  supply.  To  remedy  this,  if 
possible,  three  artesian  wells  were  bored,  some  years  ago,  at 
Mortmere  (not  the  present  Mortmere,  but  the  one  that  is  now 
under  the  waters  of  the  Salton  Sea),  and  a  full  flow  was  secured 
in  all  cases,  the  water  pouring  out  in  good  volume  two  feet  over 
the  casing.  But  on  testing  it,  it  was  found  to  be  unsuitable  for 
the  use  of  the  locomotives,  some  mineral  or  other  substance  in 
it  producing  foaming  in  the  boilers.  Hence  the  railway  company 
was  compelled  to  go  back  to  its  old  method  of  hauling  water- 
cars,  which  it  still  continues. 


268 


The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 


In  1899  a  successful  well  was  bored  by  the  Southern  Pacific 
Railway  Company  at  Mecca,  from  which  a  good  flow  of  pure 
soft  water  was  obtained.  Then  the  government  appropriated 
$2,500  for  the  sinking  of  an  artesian  well  at  Martinez,  in  order 
to  see  if  something  could  not  be  done  to  change  the  abject  con- 
dition of  the  Indians.  It  proved  to  be  a  wonderful  well,  and  is 
still  flowing  constantly.  The  flow  was  so  abundant  that  it  and 
the  well  at  Mecca  may  be  said  to  have  given  the  present  life  to 
the  Coachella  Valley,  for  without  artesian  water  nine-tenths  of 
the  present  white  inhabitants  would  be  unable  to  live  there. 
The  settlement  of  the  valley  dates  from  the  discovery  of  this  belt 
of  artesian  water.     Immediately  all  available  land  was  taken  up 

under  the  homestead  and 
desert  land  acts,  except 
that  which  is  on  the  rail- 
way grant. 

There  are  now  nearly 
three  hundred  artesian 
wells  in  the  Coachella 
Valley.  They  range  gen- 
erally from  450  to  550 
feet  deep,  though  there 
are  some  that  range  be- 
tween  330  to  650  feet. 
The  cost  of  boring  is  about  $1.00  per  foot,  according  to  the 
casing  used,  a  four-inch  pipe  being  the  regular  size.  The 
well  at  the  experimental  date  farm,  at  Mecca,  is  482  feet  deep 
and  yields  35  miner's  inches  of  water. 

Surface  wells  can  be  dug  anywhere  in  the  Coachella  Valley 
and  water  found  at  from  50  to  300  feet.  In  the  upper  part  of 
the  valley,  say  near  Indio,  this  surface  water  is  of  fair  quality, 
but  it  becomes  more  alkaline  as  one  goes  farther  south. 

The  water  that  flows  from  the  artesian  wells  is  about  6o° 
Fahrenheit,  and  is  warm  enough  to  promote  the  growth  of  the 
plants  to  be  irrigated,  even  though  it  immediately  come  in 
contact  with  them.  Too  cold  water  will  often  retard  plant 
growth. 

This  water  also  is  "soft,"  so  that  for  domestic  purposes  it  is 


The  modern  artesian  well 


Water  on  the  Desert  269 

greatly  to  be  desired.  To  one  used  to  a  "hard"  water,  where 
soap  does  not  lather  freely,  this  desert  water  is  peculiarly  agree- 
able. It  is  good  to  the  "feel,"  and  when,  as  was  our  case  on 
the  desert,  we  were  often  compelled  to  do  our  own  laundrying, 
it  was  a  great  comfort  to  have  cold  water  that  lathered  easily 
and  that  seemed  to  second  all  our  untutored  attempts  to  make 
our  soiled  garments  and  belongings  clean. 

This  artesian  water  doubtless  has  its  origin  from  the  flow  of 
the  near-by  mountains.  These  comprise  the  entire  eastern  slope 
of  Mount  San  Jacinto  and  the  southeastern  slope  of  Mount  San 
Gorgonio.  For  fully  five  months,  from  April  to  August,  the  White- 
water River  will  discharge  three  thousand  inches  of  water.  For 
the  same  period  from  Tauquitch,  Chino,  Murray,  Andreas,  and 
Palm  Canyons  a  flow  of  nine  thousand  inches  is  a  reasonable 
estimate.  All  these  streams  disappear  within  a  mile  of  their 
debouch  on  the  desert  to  add  to  the  inexhaustible  artesian  supply 
of  the  valley  below. 

In  and  around  the  artesian  wells  at  Mecca  and  in  the  streams 
leading  from  them  to  the  Salton  Sea  are  countless  thousands  of 
tiny  fish,  like  minnows.  Whether  these  came  from  the  wells 
or  from  the  Salton  I  am  unable  to  say. 

In  arid  regions,  where  the  clouds  do  not  furnish  rain  in  sufficient 
quantities  for  crops,  water  for  irrigation  is  as  great  a  desideratum 
as  land.  Given  the  best  soil  in  the  world,  without  water  to  make 
it  productive  it  is  valueless.  Hence  in  the  desert,  where  all  pros- 
perity depends  upon  the  welfare  of  the  farmer,  it  is  to  the  interest 
of  all  to  see  that  the  water  supply  is  conserved,  is  properly  dis- 
tributed and  wisely  utilized.  While  at  first  sight  it  may  not 
appear  relevant,  it  is  nevertheless  true  that  every  desert 
farmer  should  be  personally  interested  in  the  forest  region  from 
which  he  directly  obtains  his  water  supply.  In  the  case  of  those 
who  rely  upon  the  Colorado  River  this  is  impossible,  but  as  a  gen- 
eral proposition  the  statement  holds  good.  The  water  supply 
of  the  region  is  well  known  to  have  most  intimate  connection  with 
the  state  of  the  forests.  Denudation  of  forest  areas  is  invariably 
followed  by  the  conversion  of  constantly  flowing  streams  into  dry 
washes  subject  to  destructive  floods.  The  forests  conserve  the 
moisture  and  act  as  feeders  to  the  springs,  and  when  they  are 


270  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert 

removed,  the  rain,  having  nothing  to  hold  it,  runs  off  immediately 
with  great  force,  carrying  with  it  the  humus  that  helps  retain  the 
moisture  and  renders  vegetation  possible.  Thus  in  two  ways 
the  irrigation  farmer  is  injured:  first,  his  water  supply  is  incon- 
stant and  uncertain,  either  a  flood  or  a  drought;  and,  second, 
a  bare  country  is  soon  washed  and  gullied  by  its  floods  which 
thus  carry  off  a  large  amount  of  sediment.  This  silt  and  sand 
fill  up  reservoirs,  canals,  and  ditches,  thus  causing  considerable 
annoyance  and  often  great  expense. 

Of  the  use  of  artesian  and  Colorado  River  water  for  purposes 
of  irrigation,  a  subsequent  chapter  will  deal.  There  is  still,  how- 
ever, a  vast  amount  of  water  running  to  waste  from  the  San  Ber- 
nardino and  the  San  Jacinto  ranges,  which  might,  and  ulti- 
mately will  be,  impounded  and  then  conveyed  in  pipes  or  other 
conduits  for  the  irrigation  of  the  desert.  Thousands  of  acres  of 
fertile  land  in  both  the  Imperial  and  Coachella  Valleys,  far  above 
the  present  canal  levels  and  above  the  flow  of  artesian  water, 
await  the  magic  touch  of  the  vivifying  fluid  to  produce  abundantly. 


Mexican  hauling,  water  at  Mexicali 


